Can you hear me now? (or, Harry Potter versus Dumbledore)
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: Harry let Ginny die. Features wand twirling, dead gingers, murderous godfathers, accidental alliances, ridiculously complicated pureblood customs and politics, psychopathic teens, backstabbing, front stabbing, out-of-left-field stabbing. Dark Humour. Slightly Psychopathic!Harry.
1. Delicious Shivers

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted and it all went down hill from there.

**Warnings:** Angst. Annoyance. Indifference. Manipulation.

**AN: **Just an idea I had floating around. If enough people seem to like it I'll keep it going. I have a few chaps written out already, I've just been busy with _Very Bad Boys_ and the _Alchema_ series.

**-****Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>Here I come, Here I come, Grab your guns and crossbows<em>

_And run, Better run, From the skull and crossbones_

_The fun has begun, Yeah, It's hard to swallow_

_When I'm done, I ain't done, Cus it's Hell that follows_

* * *

><p>"Okay, that's actually really neat. Can you teach me that?<p>

The older teen furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry?"

Harry pointed, standing from his spot by Ginny and walked toward him.

"That thing you're doing with my wand, twirling it like a drumstick. That's pretty cool."

"Is it?" He asked, studying his hand twirling abilities as though he was trying to see it from the other boy's perspective. "I always thought it was kind of flippant and intimidating."

"Oh it is." Harry assured him. "Can you show me?"

Tom Riddle _smiled_.

Harry Potter_ gulped_.

It was more of a demonic baring of perfect teeth and a flash of darkly glinting eyes than any sort of smile Harry had become accustomed to prior to this...facial expression. He couldn't tell if the shivers he got from it were in awe of Riddle's _blatant craz_y, or his body was trying to spontaneously-combust since his _fight or flight_ response refused to kick in and move his feet, and himself by association, as far from the cunning teen as it was possible to be. Like France. Or Connecticut.

"Take the girl first, then come back. We'll have a chat."

Harry nodded, turned and walked over to the first year girl. He nudged her with his foot. "Is she, er, dead? Or anything?"

"No. Not yet."

"Oh."

"You should probably get her back _before_ she dies."

Green eyes widened. "Oh! You're right."

Tom showed him the proper way to levitate the girl, dead use full that!, Er, no pun intended. Then the boy paused curiously and sort of stared at him.

"Shouldn't you care more about..." He waved in Ginny's general direction.

"Yeah but I'm tired."

An elegant brow rose. "Tired?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I haven't had coffee in days and honestly all the teenage angst swarming around me combined with all the nasty glares I've been getting recently, thanks for that, have kind of sapped my motivation for this hero business."

"I see."

He waved over his shoulder at the teen Dark Lord and left.

Now, there was a number of things he could do now. He could tell Dumbledore everything, play hero, maybe save the girl. Or. Or he could keep it to himself and Dumbledore could go choke on a lemon drop. Honestly he was favoring the latter.

Perhaps if the headmaster had done _anything at all_ to fix the problems that happened within his school so Harry didn't have to get involved, or if he kept kids from trying to kill him in the halls because they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, he might have done the golden boy routine. But the headmaster hadn't and Harry didn't much want to any way. He liked Tom, first of all. Even more so now they could talk in person. He was fun in a rickety roller coaster kind of way. Harry also liked the Chamber and fancied it a good hideout when he wanted to be alone. Which a lot of the time. There was only so much loudness and tomfoolery and teasing and whining and other ridiculousness he could take before he started considering the balcony of the Astronomy Tower a good place to sit and think.

There wasn't technically anything wrong with their expectations of him. _If_ he had been who they thought he was. The problem was that he really, really wasn't. Not even a little. He tried to be _oh yes_, he tried his best. But Harry had had more than enough pretending. He didn't owe this world anything, they'd left him to rot at the Dursely's hadn't they? And they turned on him quick enough this year. He'd secretly _enjoyed_ their fear if he was being honest, it'd been funny to see them scurry out of his way. Ignoring the fact he was the smallest student in the school in every way a person could be small.

Not very threatening really.

No, he decided, he'd keep this to himself. For now. And he'd see what happened. They would still be thankful for him rescuing Ginny, even if she did die soon, and he... Oh here we go.

Harry quickly woke up the red headed girl and explained that he had rescued her from the Chamber. When she asked about Tom and a diary he denied any knowledge of it. She bought his story, even though she'd stolen the Diary from him herself because she was traumatized and it didn't occur to her to think for herself, totally not Harry's fault. He wasn't the one who allowed a diary to_ take over his mind_. Honestly it was like the chit had no will power. He resisted the _Dark Lord_ at age _eleven_ for Merlin's sake and he'd gone into the situation with almost no experience in the magical world. This was a girl who grew up knowing better than to trust magical talking objects found randomly in their stuff. Her father worked for the freaking Ministry correcting inanimate objects charmed _to do things they shouldn't_ with the purpose of hurting the new owner.

After she explained everything happened since she found the diary in her cauldron, he couldn't believe she was stupid enough to admit it to someone she didn't even really know, he told her they were going to pretend that she had nothing to do with it. There was no diary. Someone else was responsible and they didn't know who. She quickly agreed and after rehearsing the story they made they way up the spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office. He didn't think it would matter much, as Tom hinted she'd die soon, and she really did look bad, pale and almost faded, but he wanted to cover all his bases. After she died no one else would know the truth.

Irritatingly it was several hours before he could sneak away to the Chamber. He told them he needed to go take a nap after killing the Basilisk, which he hadn't but he was hoping he could talk Tom into not trying to kill any more people for a bit. At least not at the school, Harry would have to rethink their cease-fire if Tom got Hogwarts closed and Harry had to be with the Dursleys full time.

One Hour Later.

The second year Gryffindor stared at the boy in front of him, slightly out of breath from dodging curses. If anyone had told him yesterday that today he would be sitting, crossed legged, in the chamber of secrets, bantering with Mini-Lord-Voldemort he'd have directed them to Madam Pomphrey immediately. Yet, here he was, getting to know the teenage version of the man who tried to kill him. It was mostly him sitting there and listening, once in a while his opinion was required. Harry imagined it must have something to do with his lack of conversation partners, what with being a_ life sapping inanimate object_ and all. The older boy's emotions changed quickly, angry one moment, curious the next and irritated the moment after. His complimenting and insulting skills experiencing flows of usage accordingly.

"It's frightening really." Harry murmured finally.

Tom stopped his ranting about the ministry to stare at him.

"What is?"

He pointed at the other boy's head. "How many people you've got in there."

"It's maddening." Tom deadpanned.

He repressed a smirk. "I'm quite sure it is."

Tom watched him for a moment, considering something or other in his head no doubt far too complex for Harry to follow.

"Why aren't you and I...associates?"

Harry nearly laughed at the blatant avoidance of the term 'friends'.

"You tried to kill me."

"Is that all? That isn't so bad. All this pent up anger isn't good for the soul Harry. You need to learn to let things go."

"Twice."

Tom winced, then a slow, toothy smile crept over his face. Tom smiling was never good for anybody. But the shivers_ were_ delicious.

Maybe Harry was an adrenaline junkie...

"If it makes you feel any better I obviously wasn't trying that hard. Well, I suppose I _had_ intended to when you first approached me, but in my defense I knew you only as the boy who destroyed my future self and I was understandably upset. The second time I'd run out of things to say and I had nothing better to do."

"What."

"Bored. I was bored."

"...I hate you."

"I'm wounded. Truly."

The raven haired Griffindor huffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't suppose it'd be all that horrible though." said Tom, avoiding eye contact. "Being your friend I mean. I've never had a friend before. I could always kill you if I get tired of it."

Harry looked up and smiled. "That sounds fair."


	2. I have a what?

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>Calm the ache, Stop the shakes,<em>

_You clear my mind_

_You're my escape f__rom this messed up place_

* * *

><p>Ron's sister died the next day.<p>

In the aftermath of a student_ dying_ and the arrival of aurors no one paid much attention to small a Gryffindor with inky hair and sharp eyes.

They really should have.

Because in these moments, before he perfected his mask, it would have been obvious to those who bothered to look. Something had changed. They may not have been able to put their finger on it straight-a-way but something was not_ right_. Perhaps his smile was a bit off or his new habit of twirling his wand was just a tad un-nerving. Maybe it would have been the way he stared off into the distance, seeing things no one else could see, deep in thought or the frantic movement of quill across parchment while he sat alone in the corner, a pile of books above his year next to him. But no one noticed and he certainly didn't bring it up.

It was more evident at the end of the year when the students boarded the train and prepared to go home for the summer. Neville would be the first to notice, to Harry's surprise. The child didn't say anything, only studied Harry and otherwise kept his opinions to himself. This suited Harry fine. Because he didn't feel like pasting a friendly smile on his face or laughing at inane jokes or worshiping Dumbledore's vanquishing of the Heir. The last one because it was untrue, and the first two because he didn't feel like trying that hard anymore. So, instead of playing exploding snap or listening to Hermione lecture about summer homework, he opened the books Tom recommended to him and he let the rest of the world fade away.

He was good at that. A bit out of practice now but he'd spent the majority of his life fading out the rest of the world and focusing on the present with tunnel vision, hoping if he pretended it all away it would vanish to please him. He did that now. Pages turning quickly, making notes, nodding when he sensed a lull in the conversation. The entire train ride he didn't speak a single word. Again, only Neville noticed.

Harry said his required goodbyes to his 'friends' and didn't bother to hope for a quick rescue from his destination.

Hell. Or number 4 Privet Drive.

Whichever.

He sat in the back of the car and carefully filtered out his Uncle's threats, his only interest in the books currently shrunk in his pockets. Tom had made sure he knew to do that when he learned Harry would spend the summer with muggles. An odd sort of look would come into his dark blue eyes and in one of the mood swings Harry was coming to expect from him he'd cheerfully written down a number of spells to help him out, some of them time released and others easy to master without a wand if put in the practice. He was asked, told, to write to Tom of his progress with the books, given an awkward pat on the head and that was that.

Harry had finally found someone worse at giving comfort than himself. Fitting, really.

Mechanically, he removed his things from the car and stored them in his old cupboard, he knew better than to ask to keep them out. He did, however, have the foresight to stuff his wand into his pocket. If he didn't bring it up and no one saw it his uncle wouldn't think to ask. That was fine with him. His wand was more important than his school books anyway. The petite boy nodded to his uncle, at whatever it was the nasty man snarled his way, and made his way to his room. Several locks clicked into place as soon as the door was shut. He didn't even flinch. He didn't have time to focus on his prison or his relatives or whether or not any house elves would steal his mail this summer. Harry had to memorize his books and practice his wandless spells and get ready.

With this attitude he tackled his summer unlike any other before it. He didn't talk back to his relatives, in fact he didn't talk at all. If anything they seemed pleased by this. Harry did his chores quickly, ate the food given him without complaint, he even whistled while tending the garden. This made his Aunt nervous. He made sure to do it often.

And then there were conversation with Tom. Whenever anything got to be too much talking with Tom made it better. He hardly noticed when stayed up talking to him and not sleeping. Who needed sleep?

Two new diaries were acquired before he left for the summer and Tom charmed them accordingly. They look like replicas of the original, however they said the name of the person you were sending the message to. As such, Harry's said Tom Riddle and vice versa. What was written in one showed up in the other. They never had much rhyme or reason to their conversations, they were mostly spontaneous, brought on by some question or thought one of them had and presented to the other. Some of the things they talked about got Harry rethinking his place in the wizarding world. Once he asked how Tom found it so easy not to care what the world would think of his actions.

**I find it more agreeable to live my life in accordance to my personal values, do as I must to get where I need to be, speak my truths in the face of adversity and never fear if my way of living my life offends the delicate sensibilities of those unable to follow my example.**

_What would you do if you didn't have the power to make that choice?_

**I'd take it.**

Harry rolled his eyes. Well that was easier said than done, wasn't it? Then again perhaps he should keep in mind whom he was talking to.

Still, it stayed in his mind for the next week. He turned it about in his mind and considered it from all angles. Why didn't he have power? He wasn't allowed to use magic. Why wasn't he allowed to use magic? He was underage. Why else? He lived with muggles.

He followed that train of thought for a bit. Why did he live with muggles? Ones who hated magic no less. He was really, pretty sure they would make that clear to any wizard who dared step into their home so he didn't know how anyone could have thought this was a good idea. And what was the deal with that? Did no one check on muggle raised wizards like him? And if they did, did they think as long as he was alive enough to move about then all was well? Because he really could have done without the tens years of life under the stairs if anyone cared.

Tom had opinions on all of these things of course but Harry wasn't ready to deal with most of them. Tom was harsh and blunt when it came to his opinion of muggles. Harry had, of course, defended muggles in general at first. He hadn't know what to say when Tom asked him how many decent ones he knew. When Harry pointed out some wizards, like the Malfoys, were horrible Tom asked him if he thought Draco lived in a cupboard under the stairs. He then pointed out that if Harry had been adopted by the Malfoys after his parents death he'd have been treated the same as Draco. Wizards were very fond of magical children, and as he was a first generation pureblood and the sole heir to the an old line, there would have been lots of motivation to keep him well and content.

It took him two days to get over that piece of information.

He tended the roses, washed the car, whistled loudly to make his aunt trip walking into the house but none of it was enough to make a burning question in the back of his mind go away. He tried to cover it up, he tried to pretend it away. He tried to act like it didn't bother him, it didn't matter, it was over and done anyway.

Then a mass murderer was in the news. An hour later Tom was writing in the diary.

**Why didn't you tell me your Godfather was still living?**

_My Godfather? I have a Godfather?_

**Sirius Black.**


	3. Flirting with Genius

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>I get kind of Dark<em>

_Let it go too far_

_...you know me better than I know myself_

* * *

><p>Apparently everyone and their least favorite second cousin by marriage knew that Sirius black was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of the Potters, murders of muggles and his own friend Peter Pettigrew of which he left not but a finger. Harry found that article particularly...vivid in that regard. The amount of people who'd employed their cameras and dict-a-quills in the quest of a detailed account of the whole thing was disturbing as Sirius black was still there in several pictures, or so he heard from Tom who actually had access to such things, and was laughing quite madly in every one. Tom reckoned they were counting on the presence of aurors and the excellent staff at St Mungos to piece them back together if the need arised. After all in the journalistic world this was one of those opportunity of a lifetimes you hear about but are never around to experience yourself.<p>

It had been a nearly literal blood bath that almost overshadowed the carnage they were there for in its ferocity, as each reporter did his or her best to ensure they got their questions answered first by as many people as possible with pictures to match before anyone else- and they were not above bribery, manipulation, violence or good old-fashioned sabotage to make sure of it. Mostly Slytherins and Ravenclaws went into journalism which actually explained everything from what he knew of them from both his own experiences and Tom's from his time. He was quite glad Gryffindors were typically above careers involving patience and subtly as he could easily imagine the scene had Lions made up the journalists and in his imagination not one of them came out in the condition they went in.

What all of this amounted to was that the lot of Wizarding Society, the Purebloods more than any others, were well aware of the danger Sirius Black now presented to him specifically and none of them had seen fit to send him a short letter to inquire about his health or confirm his knowledge that straying into darkened alleys would be more of a bad idea than usual. He was a bit miffed by this to be honest. He hadn't expected Ron to send him a letter as he was in mourning with his entire family who'd gone to enact some burial ritual involving the Oracle over in Europe, their two older sons coming along. He could easily understand that. But what excuse did Dumbledore plan to employ when Harry eventually found out? They didn't honestly think he was so dull as to not connect the mention of Black in the muggle world and then again in The Prophet when he returned from the summer?

All of this brought up questions for his plans with Tom, because while he had gained this ally on a whim, he certainly had plans. They'd brewed in the back of his mind, stuffed in there with all of his other issues surrounding the wizarding world and now he finally saw the means to make use of them. Tom, of course, glinted his steely eyes when Harry mentioned he had plans but said nothing on the topic. He was a lot more _wait and see _than Harry would have imagined from his counter part. ...then again Voldemort had the entire year where he could have killed him in a deserted corridor, transfigured him into a stone, put a stasis spell on him and then dropped him in The Forbidden Forrest. Easy enough. In fact the Dark Lord made only one real attempt on his life and then left him alone. Even when they met in the mirror room his first reaction was to keep him out-of-the-way, then to lure him to the dark side. Curiosity was prevalent in both really. In his defense that was the second time he'd killed anyone and the first time he'd been old enough to register it and he'd been understandably unsure how to handle it and therefore the memories of the time were locked away along with the emotions attached.

A balanced psyche was for_ wimps._

At any rate, they now had to decide whether this Sirius Black was friend or foe. According to rumour he was Voldemort's right-hand and also had no loyalty, like at all. However, according to rumour Harry was raised like a king in a mansion with servants and private tutors. Those people were cute.

Unfortunately they had very_ little_ in the way of fact regarding the situation other than supposed eyewitness accounts, the very real deaths of muggles, and his current residence in Azkaban Prison. Tom took this moment to point out that none of these things confirmed much of anything other than the fact the Wizarding world found him in the middle of a bunch of bodies were suspicious enough of him in general prior to this to believe it was something he might do, and decided to throw him in prison immediately afterward.

There was no physical proof at all and the pensive memories of the event were locked in the Auror's Vault by order of several ministry officials, Cornelius Fudge who they did know was an auror at the time and had been at the scene not to mention was now the Minister For Magic and surprise, Albus Dumbldore.

Holy Merlin did this man of his fingers stuck into candy jars all over the place, it was ridiculous.

And unsettling.

Harry knew he really needed more information on Black than rumours and the Daily Prophet, with this in mind, and knowing that Diagon Alley was really the only place he knew how to get to, he stole his Aunt's muggle straightening solution and one of her black blouses, washed up as clean as he could get and decided to forgo his glasses. These together made him nearly unrecognizable, especially with is scar covered, glasses gone and the lack of Potter hair. Even classmates might have to look close to be sure. The shirt was a bit feminine with black lace along the cuffs and the collar, which Tom mocked him for, but Harry liked the feel of the silk and the idea of wrecking his Aunt's clothing, so he didn't mind. Tom's snickering was something he could live without, however.

Some shoe polished rubbed over his sneakers and he looked halfway decent.

Harry felt free to write in his diary as much as he liked in the alley, which was really a step up from the muggle world where stuff like inanimate objects that do things they normally oughtn't raises eyebrows. Here he was just someone's son who might be particularly studious, as he visited bookstores primarily, and aside from glances trying to gauge his bloodline it was far from the circus he was getting used to as Harry Potter. With every year his appearance was becoming more well known, spotted more easily, the situation with Lockhart last year only made it worse with his face all over the paper. And of course it was there in the articles talking about Black this year. Because everyone knew who he was in reference to Harry and if figured they thought a photo of a confused and uncomfortable Harry beside a picture of a quite mad Black would spice the articles up.

He was really beginning to _hate_ journalism.

It was as he strolled through a book store searching for information on the black family that he and Tom came up with an interesting course of action. Tom by accident through sarcasm, Harry by a stroke of Slytherin genius.

**What we need to do is get you, myself and Black somewhere together so we can feel him out. He shouldn't see me at first of course, let him see you in a vulnerable situation and see if he takes advantage. Does he attempt to seek revenge for my older self or does he beg your forgiveness to ease his guilt? If we can confirm his loyalty to one of us we may be able to sway this, after all my olderself is supposedly vanquished, we can simply tell him I underwent a ritual to restore my body and I took it a bit farther than necessary to help hide my identity until I am once again strong enough to reclaim my throne as Dark Lord. There isn't anyone to tell him any different.**

_Alright but I'm not walking outside at three am and calling out for the psycho, Tom. _

**You could ask an old 'friend' of his to give him directions to your home. Maybe he'll rush to get their first so his 'friends' don't kill you before he can. We could stun him, tie him up and talk with him.**

_No._

**You could send him an owl-**

_Stop helping. _

Harry felt a wave of amusement that wasn't his own and he scowled. This had been happening more and more since Tom's official arrival in a body of his own and as neither of them had any experience with something like this before, they had no way of knowing if this was normal. Harry turned and halted in his steps. Walking through the doorway was none other than Draco Malfoy. Normally this was cause for cheering because it meant he got to argue or duel with someone who had more than half a brain cell and didn't get offended if Harry was smarter than them. The blonde would only go research better spells. This was not the reason he stopped and stared, though the increasing discomfort bleeding through the Slytherin's mask was delicious, it was because lightning struck and he had an idea.

_Actually, you're brilliant._

**Of course I am. But you'll have to be more specific.**

Harry looked up from the diary, ignoring Tom for a moment.

"Morning_ Draco_." He sent a beaming smile at the other boy who, to Harry's unforeseen streak of inner sadism's delight, appeared to be growing increasingly unnerved.

"Good morning...Harry..." Draco responded, slowly with a slight questioning sound at the end. Whether he was questioning his permission to use his first name or Harry's sanity was not clear.

Then Harry realized he didn't look like himself. He nodded at the blonde.

"Yup it's me! Come on I need your help with something.'

He didn't give the boy a chance to respond, only grabbed his hand and took off back to the corner of the store he'd walked out of, his pile of books there next to a low stool. He missed the startled expression and flush of pink on the Slytherin's cheeks entirely.

**I fail to see how snogging Malfoy is going to help us.**

_I'll send him an invitation._

**Who? _Black?_ Harry I wasn't being serious, that is in fact a very bad idea. Even more so to be asking the son of a Death Eater for a favor-**

_I'm going to have a birthday party._

**...You're what?**

Harry snapped the diary shut and pushed the bemused Slytherin on to the stool, sent him his most charming smile, cocked his head slightly, and looked up through his lashes. He'd only started using this recently with Tom's instruction but it worked well so far and apparently was good on rivals as well.

"You know my birthday is coming up soon, right Draco?"

He had no idea why Tom began laughing through their connection or why the boy in front of him gulped, eyes wide like the proverbial deer in headlights.


	4. Idiot Gryffindors

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>Wanna see, who you are<em>

_Every inch, every scar_

_...the drama you are drinking_

_and the dark thoughts you are thinking_

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy stifled in yawn, which Malfoys did not do in public, and searched for something to entertain him. His father Lord Malfoy was still in a session of the Wizengamot and while Draco had attended as an observer before and part of his heirship training today he just couldn't find it in him to sit through it. A quick instruction to neither shame the family nor killed, in order of importance obviously, was thrown in his direction and he'd been on his own. The novelty wore off after an hour. He mused that if he'd come here in mid afternoon when the purebloods did the walks it may have been more interesting but as it was he had yet to spy a suitable companion his own age. Holding in another yawn, Merlin he needed to stop by the apothecary and fetch a Pepper Up, silver eyes caught sight of a new book store to the left in one of the off alleys. He gave a mental shrug, since Malfoys didn't use such low-class body language, turned down the alley and ducked inside.<p>

Draco slowed his steps when he came face to face with a small, doll-like boy who was blatantly staring at him. Staring wasn't anything new to Draco, he was stared at for lots of things. He was stared at for being the Heir to his father the current Lord of his family, he was stared at for being rich, for his looks, any number of things really. This was different. This boy in front of him had a look of unholy glee on his face that he couldn't imagine meant good things for him. He swallowed, keeping his composure the best he could and watched the boy flip open a small journal of some kind, scritch something in it and snap it shut again.

The boy looked up, halting Draco's inspection of the other boys clothing, which appeared to have been chosen for the sole purpose of making the boy as doll-like and fragile looking as possible. That's was very manipulative. He approved.

"Morning Draco." He sent a beaming smile at Draco, eyes closing part way.

That voice. He knew that voice. For a moment Draco was speechless and unnerved and confused. How could this possible be..?

"Good morning...Harry..." Draco replied, slowly, eyes flickering over the boy.

"Yup it's me! Come on I need your help with something.'

Merlin it really was Potter! He didn't get much of a chance to come to terms with that before he felt a small hand in his and he was being pulled back into a darkened corner of the store. Draco cursed when he felt himself blushing. This was Potter damn it, he shouldn't be blushing...even if the pretty git was dragging him to a corner and pushing him down...ohdearsweetmerlin. Emerald green eyes beneath long lashes stared up at him beseechingly and Draco had to cross his legs and clear his throat awkwardly. That smile was sweet and dark and he couldn't tell if Harry was flirting with him or planning to kill him. Either way brought up a number of uncomfortable questions he was a bit young and unprepared to deal with.

"You know my birthday is coming up soon, right Draco?"

Draco choked on his spit.

"Er...is it? I mean yes I know, er, everyone knows..."

A low laugh.

"Yes I guess the do don't they? And you know turning thirteen is a big deal, of course you do you just had your big party didn't you?"

Draco blinked. What were they talking about?

"Yes I did, it was quite the affair though Nott's family just had to have his two days _before_ mine, it was a bit of a scandal." _Hang on._

"Your thirteenth is coming up...you _are_ the Potter heir aren't you?"

Another blinding smile.

"Got it in one! So, since I'm live in the muggle world when I'm not at school, did you know?, I obviously can't have my party with them so I need a proper person in the wizarding world to help me because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing."

Draco sat up straighter, falling into his mask, heart rate settling now he knew he was neither being solicited nor murdered.

"Oh, and so you came straight to the best did you?" He asked, puffing up a bit in spite of himself.

"Of course! Who else would I ask? Ron? Of course he does come from a pureblood family though not as grand as yours..."

Draco knew he was being flattered and buttered up but he couldn't help being a bit offended that Weasley of all people had been considered before him.

"The Weasel!? Don't be ridiculous he wouldn't know a thing about it. You said you live with muggles? Have you gotten your inheritance test finished and ready yet? Do you have a sponsor? _Why _do you live with muggles?"

"My what test?"

The Slytherin pulled out a pocket watch, cursed, stuffed it back, heaved a long-suffering sigh and began pulling the dark-haired boy along behind him, through the store and out into the Alley.

"To Gringotts!"

Harry raised a brow at him and opened his mouth.

"Hush Harry, we need to hurry if we're gonna get this done in time. I don't know why on earth you didn't come to me sooner. Waiting until the last minute, honestly! Bloody idiot _Griffindors."_

Rather than be offended, as he expected the other boy to be, he was surprised to realize Harry was _amused__._ He only gave a half shrug and allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd, the blonde muttering insults and asking questions he didn't wait for the answers to, the entire way.


	5. Pureblood feng Shui

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>I like you more and more the less that you breathe<em>

_I've come undone, I think I'll kill everyone_

_My, what have I done?_

_Fuck it let's kill everyone_

* * *

><p>Draco dragged him up the stairs, into Gringotts, down the first main hall and down another before he stopped at a tall black desk. With subtle use of body language and words that may or may not have been either insulting or complimentary depending on how you chose to interpret them he quickly secured them an appointment and Harry was whisked down yet more halls and through doors and down stairs and he wondered if Draco realized they were technically holding hands. Not that there was anything wrong with that sort of thing, but it did earn Harry amused looks from the various goblins they passed and his wrist was beginning to hurt from being tugged so much. He hated to bring up his height, he hated his height but he was <em>a lot smaller <em>than Draco dammit and he needed to remember with his _giant steps_ that Harry had to practically run to keep up.

They turned into a door on the left, passed goblin guards wearing a creative assortment of unfriendly expressions and pointy objects Harry _very much_ would have liked to play with, and into an office that might actually have been a torture chamber at one point. Draco snapped instructions on Goblin etiquette at him and Harry really hoped the pathetic flailing he did when an old goblin walked in afterward was appropriate, because he didn't understand half of what he was told. The blonde tossed him into a seat, stood a little behind him and began speaking with a goblin Harry had never seen before as if Harry wasn't even there. A little rude to be honest. But probably for the best as Harry didn't _actually _know what they were doing there, Draco could be selling him on the goblin black market for all he knew.

Oh dear.

"Heir Potter will need a _Premium Inheritance Test _today, I don't care what you need to do to make it happen just make sure that it does in fact happen, a list of available sponsors...let's say the _Gray List_? That would probably be safest for now. One complete _Family Lineage Map_, the _Heir Ring _because I'm guessing he hasn't bothered to test his magicks against it yet, his _Terms of Inheritance_, and a list of _Family Alliances, Contracts_..."

Complete gibberish.

Then it was a lot of signing and nodding and vowing and spilling of blood. It sounded a_ lot_ more interesting than it was. Mostly Harry copied Draco and tried not to look as lost as he totally was.

This really was a good idea though and when he got a minute he'd explain it to Tom who was freaking out through their connection. From some of the books he'd gotten from Tom prior to Summer vacation, Harry learned about some aspects of pureblood society. One of those things were the important coming of age marks in a young wizards life and Harry as a_ first generation pureblood _or a wizard with two magical parents, one a pureblood, he was subject to these coming of age marks as well. One of them was the introduction into society which happened at the age of thirteen. The young wizard in question was thrown a party, usually by his father's relatives, traditionally his father's favorite cousins or uncles, unless his father was not a pureblood and then it got a bit more complicated. He didn't know_ how_ complicated because he didn't read that part. It didn't have to do with him so he wasn't interested.

The young wizard was introduced to people in society, Magical, Magical Being, and Creature society, that his family wanted him connected with, along with their heirs and daughters for possible_ companions_, _alliances, betrothals and friendships._ This also happened at the age of ten to a lesser extent so young witches and wizards could form some friendships before going to school. this was why a lot of the kids seemed to know each other on the train ride even though they'd been first years like him. Unfortunately, since Harry hadn't done one of those it did two things, made him look like a snobbish recluse, and made him even _more_ ill prepared than muggleborns, because unlike them he was actually expected to _know_ this stuff. He also found out that not shaking Draco's hand was a big deal.

Oops.

Speaking of which.

"Why the Hell are you all the way back there? Get up here and_ sit down_ so he can hear you properly and you aren't yelling in my ear Draco. You look _absurd_."

The blonde was surprised, then pleased, then smug. He pulled a chair beside him, sat, and then went on speaking with the goblin who shot Harry an approving nod for- what? Not being an ass? He could be nice, he didn't mean to embarrass Draco that one time. And he really did know a lot more about pureblood society now. No one has faith anymore.

He did not pout. He didn't.

Anyway the important thing is, at these functions all of your family and extended family is invited, and since Sirius Black was his Godfather Harry could legally send him an invite and Black could legally attend without the aurors throwing him back into Azkaban. Hopefully this would earn him some points with Black before they even met, both for his sneakiness and his obvious effort to keep him out of jail. That ought to at least make him interested in what Harry wanted, shouldn't it? All the other Blacks would be there anyway, since his grandmother was one. He was just using the Godfather bit as an additional excuse in case anyone tried to start anything when he showed up.

He might have to bring this up with Draco now that he thought about it. The blonde could get upset if a mass murderer shows up and Harry knew about it ahead of time and said nothing. That was rude even by normal people etiquette.

"Do you want to have a look at your vaults after this Harry? While we're here? You can't get into most of them with your muggles I imagine but I already turned thirteen and started my heirship training so_ I_ can take you."

"Vaults? As in...vaults? _Plural?"_

Fair brows furrowed.

"You don't keep track of your vaults? Do you have someone else appointed to, because we'll need to call them in if you do."

Harry frowned. "The only vault I am aware of is the one I was brought to when Hagrid gave my key to the goblins my first visit right before first year."

"Just the one? That's your school account Harry? Hang on, Hagrid brought you? The grounds-keeper? And _why on earth did he have your key_?"

"...There is something wrong here isn't there?"

Draco studied him for a moment. "Harry, I think we're going to have to call my solicitor."

"I think that would be wise Mr. Potter. There seem to be...discrepancies...that we need to_ solve_ before we move further, you seem woefully ill prepared for your heirship." The goblin rumbled, speaking directly to Harry. The word solve in that sentence sounded far more ominous then it ever should.

A number of things could have gone through Harry's mind just then. Anger. Confusion. Someone hadn't old him things he should no, big surprise there. He had more vaults, and an heirship which didn't register before now and he didn't know a thing about his family's accounts or any of his responsibilities. He'd gain his Lordship at fifteen being the only living member of the Potters. How was anyone expecting him to handle it? But no, these weren't his thoughts. In fact, only a name came to mind.

"Do you have any ideas who may have altered your permissions?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

Silence. Then lots of movement and sound and cursing. Another hour of frantic paper pushing and blood-letting later, a tall wizard with dull blue eyes and yellow blonde hair joined them, standing beside the desk.

Harry reached over, took Draco's watch, checked the time and froze. Oh crap, Tom. He put the watch make, ignoring the incredulous look on the solicitor's face, the amusement on the goblins face and the embarrassment mixed with smugness on Draco's. He pulled out his diary and flipped it open.

_Tom! Lovely day isn't it? Slightly overcast skies-_

**What did you do.**

_Harsh. And I am not entirely sure._

**Harry I find myself far from reassured. You were in a book store, looking for books. This level of random trouble is a talent you **_**do**_** know that?**

_...yes_

**Harry.**

_I asked Draco Malfoy to help me and now I've been kidnapped to somewhere in Gringotts and Draco's talking to goblin about Family Alliances and Heir Rings and Inheritance Tests and I wasn't really listening so I am not sure what else, and now I have more vaults than I thought and I'm gonna be a Lord!_

**Is he sitting or standing?**

_What? Draco? Er, sitting, but what does that-_

**To the left or to right or across from you? **

_The right._

**Directly next to you or slightly behind?**

Harry growled at the diary, earning glances from the others in the room who still existed even though he'd forgotten them. _He's right bloody next to me, our chairs aren't three inches apart. Now tell me why our seating arrangements matter!_

**Harry.**

_Yes?_

**What. The. Hell.**

_What? What did I do!? _Alright, maybe he still had some things to learn.


	6. Light Him Up

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>You tried to make me think, That the blame was all on me<em>

_With the pain you put me through_

_But now I know that its not me its you, _

_It __always has been you_

* * *

><p>"You're accusing your magical guardian?"<p>

Harry looked at the solicitor sharply, half closing the diary.

"My what?"

The man glanced at the papers in his hand. "Albus Dumbledore. He's been your legal guardian for eleven and a half years."

Harry thought about joining Tom in the banging of heads against walls. "Alright, just to cement this_ horrible_ image in my mind, what does that entail? What permissions does he have as a magical guardian."

"Well, his job is to make sure you are well, keep track of your educational progress, select your school, keep you out of danger, monitor your friends and associations and choose a proper home guardian and place of living."

"Say that last bit again."

The solicitor looked at him oddly. "Er, choose a proper home guardian and place of living."

"That's what I thought you said."

He glanced down and winced at the cursing Tom was doing.

Having enough of the fluctuating emotions through the link, Tom forced Harry to write down everything that happened from the moment Draco showed up in the bookshop to now, including every single thing Harry said, whom he said it to, what his body language and distance from said person was at the time, who was present to witness it and everything else he'd done. When he got to the part about reaching around Draco to use his watch in front of the solicitor and the goblin Harry got the vague feeling that Tom was beating his head against a wall somewhere in the Chamber. Unfortunately time did not in fact pause while he did this so more things were happening around him that he had to in turn report to Tom. This resulted in an obscene amount of writing in the diary and he was relieved when the solicitor took this to mean Harry was taking notes and paying close attention. He totally wasn't, but that's what Tom's memory of awesomeness was for. Er, if he didn't bash his brains out first.

That would be inconvenient.

What Harry got out of this was something about companions, declarations and public displays of favor. All of which he probably ought to capitalize but was too frightened by what all of this might mean to care right then. Tom was lucky he could read Harry's handwriting at the point.

The fact he was letting Draco 'handle' it for him was also a big deal. Harry was of the opinion you could say hello the wrong way at a pureblood party and star a damn war with it. He said as much to Tom, who did not find it funny. Harry really wished that that didn't mean it was true, because he was seriously beginning to consider just dropping bombs on the wizarding world and then rebuilding it. Seemed like it might actually be easier than dealing with all of this pureblood nonsense.

Touching someone whose first name you just used without permission and dragging them around offers familiarity and a position of friendship. Which would explain why Draco was so caught off guard considering Harry had rejected his offer of friendship back in first year. This was also why Draco had insisted on physical contact when they were going through Gringotts, it showed everyone that Harry was, essentially, under the Malfoy Heir's protection and also established that they were familiar with one another. Familiar in the pureblood sense meant they could call one another by their first names or even a nick name, talk to one another with informal protocols, Harry didn't even know what that meant, and was a declaration of being in the process of a _negotiation of__ friendship_. Friendship in the pureblood world wasn't even cut and dry.

This was ridiculous.

Each step of 'familiarity' offered each person different permissions with regard to the other person and was a very big part of surviving in this society, you had to know who was familiar with whom and to what degree before socializing unless you played it safe and kept to basic socializations. The pureblood kids his age were tested on this constantly by their parents and he now knew why some of the older kids would suddenly get nosy around certain times of year. They weren't actually eavesdropping or anything, they were updating themselves before major functions like the Summer Meeting, holiday balls, ministry events and the like.

From what he now knew Harry was pretty sure he'd offended everyone when he first arrived in the wizarding world. The only good news was that everyone assumed he knew most of this stuff and so thought him snobbish and aloof and purposely 'informal' and rebellious rather than an _ignorant idiot_.

Thank Merlin for small mercies.

"Harry?"

He looked up from the diary. Draco leaned close to him.

"Look," he whispered, "accusing Dumbledore is a big deal and honestly we haven't got a strong enough case here to do much more than stir things up a bit. He's too high above us to do this on our own, I'm really sorry that he's messing in your affairs but if you really want to fix this you're gonna-"

"Need to take my time, gather information, build a file of evidence and then strike him where he's most vulnerable when he least expects it?"

Draco stared.

He tensed a bit. "What?"

"I just... I really thought I was going to have to ease you into the idea."

Harry laughed. "I think I'm going to surprise you Draco Malfoy.'

"You already have."

A throat cleared.

The solicitor and the goblin exchanged a glance. The solicitor, Donovan Gray, pushed forward a file.

"This is everything we know based solely on your accounts, and while we have proof that you aren't getting your correspondences from the bank, that you aren't receiving your training invites or proper information about your responsibilities we can not actually prove that Dumbledore is behind it. We can speculate and it is probable from the little evidence we have but-"

"He's in. Drop the act."

Donovan blinked at Draco, then grinned. He loosened his tie, took off his coat and leaned forward on the desk.

"Alright, you want revenge. I have to warn you, this is big. Beyond big. Taking down Dumbledore is everyone's wish and a lot of people have destroyed themselves trying. He's big fish. Luckily you are the flavor of the week as it were. So, the question is, just how far are you willing to take this Heir Potter? Once you step down this road there won't be any going back."

Harry nodded and let out a breath.

"Look. My legacy is all I have left of my parents. It's everything to me. So, as far as I am concerned, that means Albus Dumbledore tried to steal both my legacy and what means most to me in this world, from me. I am not okay with that. I think it is only fair that I return the favor."

Donovan hummed, scribbling everything down on a piece of parchment.

"Alright, so, are we taking his money? His fame, his good name, his friends, his connections, his power base, his peace of mind..?"

Harry looked at Donovan, then the goblin, then Draco. He had the feeling Tom was going to be even more upset with him in a moment.

"Everything. I want everything. I want to see him burn. "


	7. Unintentional Molestation

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em><strong>1,<strong> something's got to give, __**2,** something's got to give, **3,** something's got to give_

_NOW_

_Let the bodies hit the floor, Let the bodies hit the floor, Let the bodies hit the _

_FLOOR_

_Push me again, This is the end_

_Here we go!_

* * *

><p>Pain. Darkness. Loneliness.<p>

Life before magic was horrible. Life before magic was a sea of endless gray with Harry floundering in the middle searching for purchase, trying not to drown, no sense of direction. No purpose. He was a freak and freaks didn't mean much in the grander scheme of things. That's what he was told. That's what he believed. It was all he knew, all he understood, and he grew to be secure in his place in the world of service he was made to endure as a freak, and the warm darkness of a locked cupboard.

He'd accepted his lot in life. He was Freak. He was no one and nothing and frankly he was good at being nothing. There was only breathing, and focusing, and pushing through the day. Because there wasn't anything else. There never would be. No one was going to save him or protect or even ask if he was okay, not the nurses or teachers or even his old babysitter with the cats. Because he was freak.

"Harry."

Then there was magic. Albus Dumbledore gifted it to him in the form of a half giant with a pink umbrella. He gifted it in a golden keep to a vault of equally golden coins. A wand.

A ticket to a new world. Literally.

Life after magic was confusing, and amazing and terrifying. Suddenly anything was possible. Just as suddenly, monsters were real. And they were looking for him. There were killing curses, and trolls and snakes who killed people with their eyes. And Albus Dumbledore patting him on the head and telling him what a good boy he was. Telling him how sorry he was but he couldn't let Harry stay at school over Summer break. He couldn't let Harry stay at the Weasleys for the Summer. He couldn't give him a pass to the restricted section. He couldn't give him extra lessons. He couldn't tell him about his parents, or Voldemort, or Death Eaters or Dark Magic. These things weren't his concern and he was only protecting Harry. He cared about Harry. And Harry had to defeat the Dark Lord and evil doings in the castle and battle with the Slytherins and ignore Dark Magicks and behave and do as he was told. His thoughts didn't matter nor did his opinions or desires. Because, even in the wizarding world, he was a freak.

_"Harry."_

And then it was back to scrubbing floors and harsh words and smacks to the head and bruises on his arm and spending the night outside because he was locked out for breaking a glass. Leaning against the tool shed, shivering and staring at the stars and dreaming of the day he'd return to Hogwarts. Letters returned unopened by Dumbledore. Vaults hidden by Dumbledore. Will sealed by Dumbledore. Home chosen by Dumbledore.

Magical Guardian.

_Freak._

"Harry! Dammit Harry snap out of it!

He could have lived somewhere else. Anywhere else. Hell he was The-Boy-Who-Lived and the heir to a noble house there had to been a good number of pureblood families willing to take him in. He could have been raised with adopted siblings, like a family. Treated like a human being. He would have known about magic and about Hogwarts and getting trained in his legacy. He would have met Ron and Draco and other kids his age _long_ before school started. Harry wouldn't have thought his name was freak until he was six. No cupboards or days without speaking for fear of being laughed at or ignored. That was his greatest fear. When he five his cousin Dudley took to pretending Harry wasn't there. At dinner that night his aunt and uncle liked the idea so much they decided they wanted to play too. For three weeks Harry wasn't there. He tried begging and screaming and crying and throwing things. But no one could hear him or see him because he wasn't there.

Because Albus Dumbledore put him there with those people.

Albus Dumbledore who, according to the very official document in front of him, was required by magical contract as his guardian to physically check on and confirm his living situation and health, twice every year. On the dates he was sent to his babysitter for what were suppossedly yearly faimly days for his aunt, uncle and cousin. Albus Dumbledore signed a paper after every visit confirming that he had been chosen Harry's room, his clothing, and his medical records. Albus Dumbledore who knew Harry's darkest secret and did nothing to change because, according to the paper, he honestly believed that Harry was exactly where he needed to be.

Someone was shaking him and speaking to him and Harry wanted to answer but he couldn't hear them above the rushing in his ears and the fire in his veins and the swirling, snapping, stinging waves that was rolling around him and blurring everything around him. He didn't what it was or why it was there or how to make it stop or even if he wanted to. Because the cutting, searing, biting feeling was intoxicating. In him, out of him, around him, burning and chilling and filling. And then he couldn't remember who he was or where he was or what he was doing there, there was only his magic and it's whispers vowing vengeance on behalf of it's master. Drawling, hissing whispers caressing his cheeks and weaving patterns along his skin, promising him vindication if he would only free it but he didn't know how and it was frightening. Harry reached for it, clawed for it, and felt it reaching back on the other side of the glass. There was a barrier keeping them apart. Why was it there? He needed his power! It was a part of him. And now an aching that had always been there was suddenly more noticable and unbearable and...

Something brushed his Lips lightly, Harry felt it through the hazy chaos his mind had become. It pushed on his lips, a hand tangled in his hair. Spice. Blood. Stale Water. A hand was on his chin, a tongue in his mouth, a strong arm pulling him up along a hard body. And the haze faded and everything started to clear. He could feel cool hands and soft hair, and the pain receded resulting in a small moan escaping his lips which was embarrassing and _ohmygodsomeoneiskissingme._

Harry snapped his eyes open and promptly fell over backwards.

"Draco!"

The blonde, whose face was very flushed, waved his hands about desperately.

"I'm so sorry but I didn't know what else to do. You just sort of had a fit and you couldn't hear me and then this wind kicked up and your magic went mad. Everything was breaking and the magical pressure was unbearable and I was afraid you were going to kill yourself and then Nimbletack said Magical Chaos was caused by emotional upheaval which makes your magic unbalanced and it needed to be countered with an opposing emotion and I didn't know what else to do!"

"So you thought molestation was the answer?"

Draco sat in his char and covered his face with his hands.

"Oh Merlin never bring this up again I beg you. I only did it because he told me to." The Slytherin moved a hand to point at the goblin who was grinning.

"I only wanted to see if he would do it. And if it would work."

Both boys gaped.

"You mean you didn't know it would work? I could have died!" Draco's face couldn't decide if he ought to be mortified or outraged and the result expression was hilarious.

Harry couldn't help it, he snickered.

Silver eyes snapped to him. "And just what is so funny? I was worried you know. And that was my first bloody kiss too and oh Merlin how am I going to tell my _mother?"_

And then Lucius Malfoy walked in.

A regal cane snapped on the floor, the Malfoy Lord looking as intimidating as ever greeted Donovan and Nimbletack before standing to the left of the desk. He pulled out a packet of parchment and set it down.

"The list, as requested. I have to admit I'm a little surprised by this entire ordeal, this is very out of the ordinary."

Donovan grinned, "You have _no idea_."

Lucius turned to Draco then paused, his brows coming together slightly. A large hand settled on the smaller blonde's forehead.

"Dragon? Are you ill? Your face is a bit red."

Harry lost it.

* * *

><p><strong>And there is the new chapter ya'll crazy kids!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hey guys, alright so I'd normally never do this but this really bothered me so I felt the need to bring it up.

I was told in a PM that sometimes I write 'too straight' and that if I were 'more comfortable with my sexuality' my writing would be even better because I "am obviously suppressing" and it's "insulting to write straight when there are slash elements" to my stories. Does anyone else feel this way or is it just the one? Also I don't see how my sexuality has anything to do with how well I write, for one, and there isn't any actual slash in any of my stories. Just lots and lots of innuendo and implied slash, especially where Harry and Tom are concerned in _Very Bad Boys_ but I see that more as their obsession with controlling and dominating each other rather than anything legitimately fluffy or _romantic._ Some of it is also for the lols. Sorry for the rant, I just wanted to know, and honestly I felt a little offended. My sexuality isn't anyone's business and I don't desire to advertise it.


	8. Oh What Fun It Is

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can. Am I being clear with the structure of the pureblood society I've created? I want to be informative without being a thesaurus.

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>There's a rumble in the floor<em>

_Get prepared for war_

_When it hits it'll knock you to the ground_

_...this is your last warning_

_A courtesy call_

* * *

><p>Draco sat around a long table in the chamber their, now not so little, group moved to shortly after Harry's magical outburst. He was quite pleased that his father agreed with his choice to involve himself with Harry, of course it would have been near social suicide to bluntly refuse the offer of assisting another heir in their <em>Magickal acknowledgement.<em> It was a very big honor to be asked and Draco was actually a little touched that Harry had done enough research to know he was related to Draco through both his paternal grandmother and legally through his Godfather- who was Sirius Black of all people., and choose Draco for help. He was certain Harry would ask either Longbottom, whose family had a history of companionship contracts and alliances with the Potters, or that damned ginger to help him with it. Draco hadn't expected to know the details or even be invited, honestly. At least not willingly though Potter's sponsor, if he knew what he was doing, might have at least made him send out a polite invitation.

Especially when the date of announcement passed and the Potter Heir had, once again, declined to make his coming of age mark open to society. The scandal of it would have been the gossip of the Summer Meeting if Nott's family hadn't gone and tried to displace Draco's _Magickal acknowledgment_. Of course his friend sent him an owl apologizing but it was still enough to cause discomfort when their parents were in the same room.

And now here he was, a _Negotiation of Friendship_ initiated with the Potter Heir as well as a place as First Companion to the Potter Heir. He did not see that one coming, in fact he was beyond shocked, and delighted, when Harry turned around and rather cleverly disguised his invitation as an obvious choice and an insult. It was almost Slytherin. The blonde was justifiably smug about it and was looking forward to rubbing it in Ronald Weasley's _face_ the very moment a chance permitted its self. Of course Harry would probably remain friends with the scruffy boy, unfortunately, but Draco would always be higher ranking among Harry's associates in comparison to the Weasel, and everyone else actually unless Harry took a consort or accepted a betrothal contract, and that was enough for him. For now.

Draco was startled out of his thoughts when the object of them slammed his hands against the top of the tabel and glared at his father.

I may have missed something.

"Potter, Harry, I understand this is a lot for you but the fact is we must be very careful in how we choose to pursue this because the bottom line is this; with your name and reputation and your alignment you can only be connected to certain aspects of this. Some of these things are going be out of your reach simply because of who you are. Being the child of Light-Aligned and Neutral Aligned bloodlines, as well as having the 'stain' of dark blood from your Black blood is going to cause enough of an issue with this as it is. I truly understand how upset you must be at Dumbledore's handling of your affairs but I must express my concerns, you need to be cautious-"

"No. _You_ don't understand."

Harry stood up slowly, hands in fists at his side, infuriated.

Draco tried to clam his new friend down, heir or not it was never the best idea to yell at his father. "Harry, we can easily remedy this, there's no need to go too far. Father say-"

And Draco was cut off as well.

"That isn't it. This isn't _about_ vaults or wills or my status in the world. It's more than just keeping secrets or telling lies. This..." He swallowed.

"This is about _Harry Hunting_. This is about scrubbed floors and soapy frying pans used as weaponry. This is about scars. This is about hiding in trees from barking dogs. It's about a cupboard under the stairs. It's about a car crash that _wasn't_ and drunks who _weren't_. It's about being invisible. It's about a boy named Freak. It's not about petty revenge, it's about a day of reckoning. I don't _care_ what alignment my parents had or what the world _expects_ from me or what they might _think_. I will wait weeks, I will wait months, I will wait years for the perfect moment to strike him down. Because I'm not on anyone's side but my own and what I want is Dumbledore's head on a freaking platter. I want his reputation, I want his friends, I want his world to go up in flame so I can use the ashes for face-paint when I declare war on him and everything he holds dear. Every book, every stupid shiny device, every contact, every person, every memory that gives him joy I will take as collateral until I see fit to collect his life. I will accept nothing else and if you will not help me see to it I will find_ someone else_ who will. I am sure there are many who will jump at the opportunity."

It was silent.

Draco's father was the first to collect himself, which didn't surprise Draco. His father was the ultimate survivalist, he could easily get a grip on his emotions to analyze the situations he found himself in and choose he best course of action with a clear head. He watched his father stand and walk around the table to stop in front of Harry who was having a tough time calming his breaths from his outburst. His father took Harry by the chin and lifted his head to face him.

"Look me in the eye. Show me."

Several minutes passed then his father released Harry's face and took a step back, eyes glittering.

"What are you willing to do to carry this out Harry? Are you willing to return to that place? Are you willing to endure months or years if necessary worth of pain, willing to record with valuable memories Dumbledore's treachery?"

Harry nodded without hesitation.

"I will do whatever it takes."

"Good boy."

Lord Malfoy turned on his heel to face Donovan and Nimbletack who'd remained quiet until now. "I require a pensive, a neutral alignment auror, and a contract of sponsorship drawn up."

Donovan perked up at this, pulling out the required request forms and lists from his seemingly limitless file. Draco was reasonably certain there was more going on then a simple expansion charm here, the amount of papers he access to in there was beyond belief. He'd never seen someone as organized as Donovan. Well, maybe Sev, he amended. But Sev was hardly a normal person and so he chose to ignore him in favor of seeing Donovan as an obsessive of some sort.

"The chosen Sponsor?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. _I_ will sponsor Heir Potter."

Donovan didn't bat an eyelash at the proclamation, he only filled out the paperwork. This was why he was so successful. He was so good at his job that Lucius Malfoy had purchased him as the Malfoy family's personal confidant. There was a bit of an uproar in the community after this, calling the Malfoy Lord any number of names. But, Draco's father only smiled sunnily at them and nonchalantly remarked that any more defamations of his character would require him to_ contact his solicitor._ It was one of Draco's favorite memories of his father.

Harry blinked and looked at Draco's father cautiously. "Excuse me, Lord Malfoy, I mean this only out of curiosity, but on what grounds? I thought only family through my father could be eligible as a sponsor?"

The older blonde smiled widely and pat Harry on the head like a favoured pet.

"But we do have a familial bond Harry," the Lord purred, "through your first companion, Draco, whom you are related to through his mother, my wife, favorite cousin of your godfather."

Draco found this...concerning.

"But father, won't you need to have Black sign his acceptance of your position? He is technically Lord black and eligible to do so now that he isn't in Azkaban."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan to have a meeting of my own with Sirius and a mutual associate of ours." Harry paused and examined Malfoy senior. "Actually, my friend is a mutual associate of yours too. I'll take care of Black signing. You go ahead and file for sponsorship."

Lucius cocked his head, amused and intrigued.

"Who is this mutual associate?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Donovan ran a hand through his yellow-ish hair. "You have to know, Heir Potter, Dumbledore won't take this appointment lying down. We can hold off telling him if you wish, bt he'll be displeased and possibly suspicious either way."

"Nonsense. We'll play it off as my being an over ambitious Slytherin unable to keep my greedy little hands to myself. I cornered Potter, spoke to him about it, caught him off guard and here we are." Lucius corrected, absently.

Draco had to take back his earlier predictions of a boring day ahead of him.

Conspiracies. Assassination plots. This was the most fun the young heir had had in a very long time. He was getting to see his father in action! Draco never imagined his first foray into politics would involve working with his father, working to bring down Dumbledore or aligning himself with Potter of all people. At thirteen no less. Honestly he was feeling a bit smug with himself. He really should have tried harder to become friends with the Gryffindor earlier, who knew he was such a source of excitement? Well of course there were his yearly suicide attempts featuring dragons, Dark Lords and demon dogs, so it wasn't as if he'd been living a boring life prior to this. It just wasn't the sort of excitement Draco was looking for well. Maybe not the dragon though, he quite liked dragons. He only turned them in because he was jealous he didn't get invited to go see the dragon as well. He knew all about them of course, being named as he was he couldn't help but develop an interest. That was in the past though and now was a part of the greatest betrayal the wizarding had ever seen. Merlin it was good to be him.

When he was sufficiently pumped up he decided to go talk with his co-conspirator, who just finished writing in his journal. The boy had some sort of complex about recording everything that happened around him.

"Harry, did you just willingly choose one of these Slytherins as your first companion and another as your solicitor and yet another as your Sponsor for your official welcome into the wizarding pureblood society? All three of them dark aligned?"

Harry offered him one of his beaming smiles.

"I think I did."

Draco nodded seriously and pretended to write his answers down on a pad like a reporter.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?"

The small Gryffindor shrugged. _"YOLO?"_


	9. On With The Show

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Now, dance fucker, dance<em>

_Man, he never had a chance_

_And no one even knew_

_It was really only you_

_...with a thousand lies, and a good disguise_

_Hit 'em right between the eyes_

* * *

><p>"...I will accept nothing else and if you will not help me see to it I will find someone else who will. I am sure there are many who will jump at the opportunity."<p>

But he hadn't meant to say some of the things he said. A dam sort of burst in him after he started talking and then he was rambling and saying things he shouldn't. He caught himself in time, of course, and quickly turned it to his advantage. He'd make them want to help him. He was an heir to a pureblood family, who was being mistreated by muggles. Whose legacy was being kept from him by Albus Dumbledore. He had to make it personal for them as well. A matter of principle for their society, to which he would soon belong.

Draco's father approached him, slowly, and tilted his chin. Silver eyes bored into him and Harry realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew.

"Look me in the eye. Show me."

And then his life was quite literally flashing before his eyes. When the inside of the cupboard came into view Harry pushed the image away as hard as he could. He needed to try to control what images the Malfoy Lord saw. He needed to witness just enough to believe Harry, enough to want to help him, but not enough to use any of it against him. And he wasn't ready for anyone to know how far it went. Not yet. They wouldn't understand it. They could understand being treated less than well by muggles, they loathed muggles and the witch trials were a part of the pureblood society's thoughts regarding muggles. Why some of them turned to Voldemort. They would understand that yes but there were still many things he wasn't ready for anyone to see. There were things he couldn't deal with himself and he was there. He was a wizard and he was helpless against them and all he could see in his head were flashes of things no one was going to get to see.

He could feel Lucius pressing against his mind, trying to force the images back to one's Harry was skipping over but Harry wouldn't let him. Instead he brought forward memories of the times he'd asked Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts. Harry thought of his first meeting with Hagrid and first visit to Gringotts. He thought of the hat telling him he would do well in Slytherin. He though of speaking in snake language during his and Draco's duel last year.

Then he pushed the Slytherin out.

Judging from the glitter in Lucius' eyes, much more to his liking the Dumbledore's obnoxious twinkling, Harry would say he succeeded in winning the man to his cause. Maybe not as loyally as he'd prefer, but enough for now. Tom could always see to him later if Lord Malfoy became a...problem. Harry winced. Nothing good would come from_ that_ sort of a conversation.

"What are you willing to do to carry this out Harry? Are you willing to return to that place? Are you willing to endure months or years, if necessary, worth of pain, willing to record with valuable memories Dumbledore's treachery?"

Harry nodded without hesitation. There was no question really, he'd even prefer it this way. Years worth of evidence? That would hit the old man hard.

"I will do whatever it takes. I have lived this life for twelve years, I can live with it for more."

"Good boy."

Harry had no idea why a compliment usually given to dogs pleased him so much. He really needed to psychoanalyze himself when he got the chance. He might need some kind of therapy or something.

Lord Malfoy turned on his heel to face Donovan and Nimbletack who'd remained quiet until now. "I require a pensive, a neutral alignment auror, and a contract of sponsorship drawn up."

"The chosen Sponsor?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. I will sponsor Heir Potter."

Harry stared at Lord Malfoy, trying not to grin, and forced an uncertain look on his face.

"Excuse me, Lord Malfoy, I mean this only out of curiosity, but on what grounds? I thought only family through my father could be eligible as a sponsor?"

He already knew the answer of course but he had to let the older man feel like it was his own idea. If this was going to work he would have to keep Lucius Malfoy convinced for as long as possible that while Harry was against Dumbledore and disillusioned with the Light, he was still an impressionable child who needed guidance and would be easily manipulated. He had to believe that he could get and keep The-Boy-Who-Lived under his thumb. Gaining control of him out from under Dumbledore's nose should be a prize hard for the Slytherin to resist.

The man smiled and pat Harry on the head like a favoured pet. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"But we do have a familial bond Harry," the Lord purred, "through your first companion, Draco, whom you are related to through his mother, my wife, favorite cousin of your godfather."

"But father, won't you need to have Black sign his acceptance of your position? He is technically Lord black and eligible to do so now that he isn't in Azkaban."

This was working out perfectly.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan to have a meeting of my own with Sirius and a mutual associate of ours." Harry paused and examined Malfoy senior. "Actually, my friend is a mutual associate of yours too. I'll take care of Black signing. You go ahead and file for sponsorship."

"Who is this mutual associate?"

Harry could feel Tom's curiosity at the emotions Harry was sending him and couldn't wait to fill the teenage Dark Lord in on what he'd done. Normally he was yelled at for doing things without asking for Tom's input but he knew the boy would be proud of how Harry turned this around. He still might get hexed though.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You have to know Heir Potter," said Donovan, "Albus Dumbledore won't take this appointment lying down. We can hold off telling him if you wish, bt he'll be displeased and possibly suspicious either way."

"Nonsense. We'll play it off as my being an over ambitious Slytherin unable to keep my greedy little hands to myself. I cornered Potter, spoke to him about it, caught him off guard and here we are." Lucius corrected, absently.

And that was how it was done. Harry was surprised how easy it was to manipulate them into doing what he wanted. Of course it helped that he had a better understanding of the rule now, and he did get a bit swept along in the beginning there but he thought he made a smooth recovery. He would simply have to focus on his previous dislike of the man from last year when he was in a room along with Dumbledore. Harry wasn't stupid, how ever naïve might allow himself to_ appear_ to be, he knew if Lucius Malfoy could read minds, than someone like Dumbledore could too. He didn't know if he'd be able to direct Dumbledore the way he had Malfoy so it would be best to have feelings of dislike for the Slytherin ready near the surface to dissuade any curiosities. And to avoid eye contact as much as possible.

Harry glanced around then brought out the diary.

_Tom._

**What have you done now?**

_How much do you love me?_

**You finally did something clever instead of acting like a Gryffindor did you?**

_I'm going to ignore that. But guess who I've secured as my sponsor? Who also thinks it was entirely his own idea?_

**You didn't.**

_I did, actually. What do you think of that Mr. Future Dark Lord?_

**You little genius! I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Aside from being pretty to look at of course.**

_That wasn't at all creepy or insulting, thank you._

**With your lace on your cuffs and your pretty hair...**

_I'll spray-paint the chamber pink if you don't stop. I won't mind it. I am one hundred percent comfortable with myself as a male, I can rock a pink base of operations._

**And you're going to use your blood connections and Lucius' status as your sponsor to justify inviting Black to your _Magickal Acknowledgement._ That was your beginning intention wasn't it?**

Harry smirked at the change of topic. That's right be afraid Tom, fear the atrocious colour that is pink.

**Harry?**

_Yes. Though I probably could have gone about it a bit smarter._

**Indeed. However you saw an opportunity and you seized, then you made it work. Well done all around.**

_I should probably also mention that Draco is now what's called my First Companion?_

**Yes, I know.**

_You got all that from seating arrangements?_

**Pureblood customs are subtle, complicated and utterly ridiculous.**

_...I noticed._


	10. Cruel and Unusual

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E<em>

_I see things nobody else sees_

_No one ever listens, This wall paper glistens_

_Hope no one looks in through the curtains_

* * *

><p>Harry had no idea why the situation suddenly wrenched its self from his control. One moment he was explaining the concept of YOLO to Draco, who was actually quite taken with the term, and then he was in yet another room of Gringotts stood on a small platform while the Malfoys and a man with short curly hair and a high cheek bones circled around him like vultures over fresh meat. Harry studied them suspiciously, looking for any hint of cannibalistic tendencies. Not that he really thought they'd agreed to help him only to lure him into a false sense of security before descending on him with pointed teeth, but what did he know about what purebloods got up to in their spare time. They could eat mudblood steak for all he knew.<p>

He really needed to get a grip on his imagination.

"I really like this beautiful orphan look you have going right now. It's well thought out, plays on emotions, women will want to mother you and their sons will want to protect you like a weak but favorite younger brother or cousin."

Harry had no idea what this man was talking about but he smiled shyly, tilting his head so his fringe barely covered his eyes. If beautiful, weak orphan was what the man wanted he could play the party easily enough. "Thank you, at least I think."

"Yes that there. That's fabulous." The man cooed.

Harry avoided looking at the obviously mental challenged man in the eyes, casting his gaze about the room instead. Thousands of rolls of fabrics, some in very unneccessary patterns, were situation around them in a large circle according to colours and shades. That must be a time-consuming job. To the left was table with strange lines and squares drawn on one side and half of a mannequin on the other side. Tailor's chambers or devices of cruel and unusual punishment?

Tough to say.

Draco snickered next to him and Harry shot him a fierce glare. Which apparently held no power because the little blonde only laughed a bit louder, putting a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep decorum.

Lucius agreed, standing close beside Un-named Creeper with Scissors. He studied him critically.

"I am going to continue with this look you have now, I don't see any need to change it. A lot of soft pieces I think, in darker colours to play up you dark hair and pull out those eyes. Maybe even only grays and blacks so your eyes are the only bits of colour on you."

"Androgynous. Make him androgynous. He's got the face for it and he's petite to begin with. And melancholy. That will play on sympathies and when he smiles it'll make more of an impact."

"Excellent thought Lucius. I agree entirely, very clever. Good eye."

Well, that was a lot of boot licking. Must taste awful.

Harry leaned in to Draco. "What the freaking Hell is _androgynous_?"

The blonde glanced up from the piece of silk he was wrinkling to polish his nails.

"No idea. But Father is getting that look in his eye so you better resign yourself to several hours as a dress up doll. You're just lucky mother isn't here. We'd never leave.

All the absurdly cutesy clothing being held up against him for a stranger approval made it hard for Harry to feel thankful at all for any part of this situation.

"Vanity is a thing with you Malfoys, isn't it?"

Draco raised his chin and ran slender fingers through his fair hair arrogantly.

"Of course it is. Have you seen us? And you and I have Black blood too. They're_ always_ good-looking."

"I'm so relieved. I stay up at night worried about being ugly."

"Well you're not, you've turned out well. You'll be even better when we're finished with you."

He didn't bother pointing out the sarcasm in his previous statement. It was a lost cause.

"Besides, this is about more than just making you _prettier_." Draco smirked.

Harry huffed. After the blonde recovered from what was now called The Snogging Incident he'd taken to teasing Harry. The Gryffindor preferred the Slytherin when he was frazzled. It wasn't fun not having the upper hand,. It wasn't like he could make fun of his looks. The boy was a damned peacock.

"It's about cultivating the persona you're going to display out in society. How you want the _world_ to perceive you. Are you intimidating, alluring, and pretentious? Are you calm, dark, sharp-tongued and a bit frightening? Are you cold, smug and snobbish?"

"Your father, Snape and yourself." Harry ticked them off on his finger.

Draco blinked.

"Huh. I wasn't expecting you to get that right a way."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "I pay more attention than you think."

It really wasn't that hard to guess at all actually. These three had very distinctive personalities. That was part of what gave Draco this feeling of confidence about him. The fact that while the rest of the kids were struggling to figure out who they were in relation to the rest of the world and their places in it Draco always seemed to just know. To be so secure in his knowledge of who and what he was and where he belonged and how his world worked. It made Harry jealous on more than one occasion. He only ever knew who he was told to be right before he entered into the wizarding world. His improve skills had grown exponentially as a result.

"Right. Well what they're doing now is working on your image. You don't really have one at the moment because you've avoided society until now. Well, that's what they believe right now anyway. Of course at school you're a bit annoyingly brash and informal with literally _everyone_ but we can refine that. You obviously are capable of playing to your strengths and using your manners, we'll just have to get you used to using them at school."

"Swell."

And then they were talking about his hair and it's length and the colour of his lips and the shade of his eyes and pointing their wands in his faces and pouring potions down his throat. Rather like a doctor's check up from Hell. Or a normal one maybe, he'd never been to a doctor. Madam Pomphrey in one of her 'moods' came pretty close though.

"Longer!"

"Shinier!"

"Greener!"

"Plumper! And perhaps a pale purple colour? A bit darker, like they're _bruised._"

"..."

"Don't look at me like that, he's turning thirteen. He'll be going through the contracts meetings next year as it is. This is his first time into society, may as well get a head start, he's the only one who can pull off a first impression this close. We should use it."

"..."

"Stop that."

"Fine. Larger eyes while we're at it."

Draco nudged him. "And this is only for your general image. You get to come back and do it again before each event, aren't you pleased?"

"...I'd rather eat glass."

"That's the spirit!"

"You know, you're a sucky friend."

The blonde rolled his eyes and slung one arm around his shoulders, the other ruffling his hair affectionately. Harry was not amused.

"Hush. I'm doing what's best for you whether you like it or not. That's the mark of true friendship. You asked for my help and I am helping you. I need to to stand still and let it happen. So close your eyes and think of England if you must."

"That was almost frighteningly mature and insightful until the ending."

"Yes well, can't act too grown up just yet. It might stick." Draco shuddered.

A soft smile made its way to Harry's face.

Maybe Draco wasn't so bad.

"Try the tights and the leggings too! Oh and some lace up boots. Flats of course, he's cuter when he's smaller. Works better to make him seem fragile as well. What's the word? _Delicate_, that's right he's _delicate_." Called Draco, gaining the curly-haired man's attention. He got a feral gleam to his eyes and rushed off to the cupboards behind the fabric.

Then again, maybe he was the Antichrist.


	11. Wait, there's more!

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>A secret place, A sweet escape<em>

_Take me away_

_To better days, A hiding place_

_Take me away...Take me away_

* * *

><p>A red shirt that wasn't red but <em>maroon<em>, and somehow that actually mattered though it wasn't explained why or how, was thrust at him after a shirt that may have been blue but frankly Harry was hesitant to assume anything about the names of colours as he'd been remarkably wrong in the last however many hours he'd been locked in this room with an unhinged tailor and two Malfoys.

In between pop quizzes on articles of clothing, their colour and materials and why it was important, because apparently the purebloods had some kind of dress _code_ and the Malfoys weren't honestly that prissy though Harry found that excuse suspect, he was also given a very quick education on politics from Lucius Malfoy.

Considering the guy was a Death Eater who'd gotten away with it and then managed to create and sustain a high enough reputation within the ministry and pureblood community to have the ear of the minister and a place on the _Hogwarts board of governor_s Harry recognized the opportunity for what it was. Unfortunately he didn't have Tom there with his _memory of awesome_ so he picked out the pieces that made the most sense and seemed most important, and let the rest filter through, his hands writing it alL on automatic separate from his brain she he didn't get an overload of information. He didn't even bother paying attention to the clothing information consciously, it all went written down as well.

On the bright this didn't give Tom enough time to write him back, because first he'd want to know all this and compare notes with how things were in his time, and secondly because he legitimately made an effort to make sure Tom didn't have enough space between paragraphs write back any sort of reply. Harry fully expected to get an earful, and hexes lets not forget those, when they next met to show Tom's displeasure at Harry's recent irresponsible adventure. The guy was gonna have to get used to it.

He was Harry Potter after all, what was a stroll down the alley without a little political intrigue and heir-napping?

Boring that's what.

Of course he came up with this whole scheme spontaneously and he still didn't know what a first companion was or how he acquired Draco as one or what that even meant and he may or may not have insulted a goblin who might be important with his flailing...

Tom might have a point actually.

"I can understand that but what I don't understand is how he can possibly think it's okay to keep all of this information from me and believe it's for the best for me to stay with my relatives? How is it he's allowed to make these choices without anyone being properly notified? And how could he possibly think he knows enough about how things might turn out for this to be the best possible course of action? What if this pushes me further away from him? Did he intend for me to never find out? And if yes, then why?"

The tall Lord nodded, re-crossing his legs in one of the comfortable, and expensive, looking chairs he and Draco brought in an hour back when they became tired from standing.

Harry, of course, still had to stand.

"Let's try again. You have heard this question, the 'If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?'"

He had.

"Well, this is really a trick question. A test, if you will. It's a test of your way of thinking. Because the real question isn't whether or not an unobserved fallen tree makes any sound, the question is whether or not the answer matters. Does it make any difference if it does or doesn't make a sound? What does it mean if it does or doesn't? Which answer might have further consequences on our lives and the way we view them, how we live them, the choices we make? Do you understand this?"

Harry let this question flow through his mind aimlessly for a bit, trying to see it from all sides and as objectively as one might.

"Well, if it falls and makes no sound as a result of no one being there to hear it, the question becomes whether it makes no sound because no one could hear it or if by our being there it then makes sound. Alternatively, if it makes a sound whether we are there or not, then it doesn't matter that we weren't there to hear it or that it happened at all, because it happened regardless of our knowledge of it. Not to say it's happening is unimportant, only that it doesn't matter if we were around to know it, because it still happened either way and it was always out side of our control to begin with. Our witness or non-witness doesn't affect the sound, we couldn't stop the sound or the consequences of the sound. The sound its self is always outside our realm of control."

"Very good. And?"

"If we did not know for certain beforehand what or any affect our witness or non witness of the falling tree would have, the best course would be to prevent the tree from falling at all, whether or not we were around or would in fact ever be around the tree. The problem with this is that we then would never know what the real consequences are, so if one day another person might come along, years later, and without knowing that there is opportunity of unknown and perhaps severe consequences from this action, allow the tree to be able to fall and then leave. Allowing the tree to fall or not fall in their presence on chance entirely, and isn't that frightening?"

"Do you think it would be better to find out or better to avoid it entirely?"

"I am uncertain."

"And if you were in a position of authority over your people, how would you handle the situation? Tell them the truth? Risk chaos? Wait until you've experimented behind their backs for a better grasp? Tell them nothing, and do nothing?"

He opened and closed his mouth many times.

"Welcome, Harry Potter, to politics."

Yay...

Initially, Harry was beyond pleased an hour later when he was able to escape the clutches of Draco's father and his crazy tailor friend who stared at Harry for just a bit too long with those sharp pins in his hand. Harry couldn't help but imagine the man in the corner of his office making mini Harry dolls and sticking them with those pins. The thought was probably irrational.

Probably.

It took two steps inside the door of Privet Drive for Harry to begin thinking back on the day's events with fondness. A psycho with sharp instruments and a mad godfather wanted for mass murder sounded delightful in comparison to the realization that Aunt Marge, his uncle's sister, had come to visit for an indeterminate amount of time and brought her Harry-Hating demon dog with her. In fact, Harry would have turned right back around and pretended to have gotten kidnapped if a meaty hand hadn't slammed the door shut behind him, and it's owner hadn't demanded his whereabouts in a voice that proclaimed no goodwill toward Harry or his person.

As he was being dragged up the stairs to be shoved unceremoniously into his room after being smacked around a bit for leaving without saying anything, being a freak, actually looking decent without their permission, existing and, probably, for coming back at all, Harry wondered if this wasn't Manhandle Harry Day as it certainly seemed so. He found that thought a lot funnier than he should have, considering the circumstances but when you're locked in a room with bars on the window, you've let an innocent, albeit stupid, girl die, a teenage Dark lord thinks you're adorable, your godfather is an escaped criminal you're inviting to your birthday party, the headmaster is plotting against you, and you accidentally form a magical contract with a Malfoy, finding the funny side of things became as necessary as rationing your food and hoping your pet owl didn't get so hungry as to start pecking you to bits when you slept.

So when a Hogwarts Elf popped into his room that night and tossed him a portkey without a by-your-leave or even a hello-how-are-you, he found it funny and laughed accordingly. When he reappeared in the Chamber he wasn't even a little surprised though he was a bit disappointed as it wasn't nearly as interesting an adventure as it might have been if it taken him somewhere more unexpected. Popping into a large secret cavern of rooms no one else knew about to be alone with a slightly psychopathic Dark Lord in training was losing it's terror factor.

"Explain."

Lamesauce.


	12. Who's pretending?

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

**AN:** Two posts in a day? Dude that's wassup. I may try another if I get around to, you know, editing it. Spelling is important and stuff...

**-Pseudonymous**

* * *

><p><em>You're my only infatuation<em>

_Don't leave me stranded in my obsession_

_My purpose, My possession_

_...my obsession_

* * *

><p>Having to explain one's self to one's newest, and only, <em>dark lordian<em> friend, was remarkably like being sent to the principle's office in primary school. If the primary school was in a prison and the principle was allowed to kill you if the mood struck. So, really it was more like seeing the principle in a horror film.

Not nearly as exciting though. He was getting used to Tom.

"Explain." Came the somewhat bored command from a dark haired teen bent over a cauldron who didn't believe Harry TO BE something that needed his attention as he didn't turn around to look at him or even verify he was who he was meant to be. Not a proper greeting or a sarcastic remark or even a hex, which Harry had definately expected.

Harry was a little put out honestly.

He looked at his pour hand which had been set to writing out the days events on autopilot so Harry didn't have to pay attention. _All that writing for nothing._

Damn.

"I was in the book store minding my own business.." was followed by "Then he dragged me out the door whining about my taking so long to ask him for help..." then "So I flailed and no one ordered my head off so I supposed I did it the right way..." to "And then they shoved me in a room with a man with sharp pointy objects who tortured me for hours-"

"You allowed the Malfoys to take you to a tailor?"

"...maybe."

"Idiot. Continue."

He felt the love, truly.

"Then Lucius instructed me in the basic structure of wizarding politics. I returned home. Regretted it. A house elf chucked a bottle of ink at me which turned out to be a port key. I was suddenly here. Then a sarcastic jerk ignored me while I babbled on endlessly."

Tom hummed but said nothing.

Harry huffed but most definitely did not stamp his foot.

Finally Tom _I have better things to do than look at you _Riddle turned to face Harry, and promptly burst into laughter. Harry Potter did not pout. He didn't. Maybe a little.

He also plotted.

Carefully, the way Lucius and the Tailor-that-shalt-not-be-named spent an obscene amount of time coaching him to, Harry tilted his head down to the floor, nudged the ground with one foot, twisted the just barely too long sleeves of his shirts between his even smaller looking fingers, and power pout at the floor. Harry sniffled.

"I...well I t-thought it was sort of cute you know? But I guess it is kind of embarrassing, since I am a boy and n-now I kinda l-look like a girl. I suppose it was a s-stupid idea to let them but I thought it might be an okay Idea."

"What are you doing?"

Harry paused to glance up through his fringe at Tom then continued talking.

"And I did sort of like it and was n-nice to have m-my own clothes. All I normally get is my cousin's old c-clothes and they're always so b-big and d-dirty and I t-trip an awful lot-"

"Harry?'

Harry allowed his eyes to water a bit.

"a-and it hurts and then I get into t-trouble for ripping the pants or scratching the w-wall when I tumble into it from the s-stairs-"

"Stop that."

Here he looked up a bit more at Tom, letting a tear come to the corner of his eye.

Tom looked horrified.

"-and then they l-lock me in my room with the b-bars on the w-window and I h-have to s-sit there and p-pretend it doesn't hurt and the clothes f-fit p-properly and that the bed isn't bumpy and I'm not h-hungry and I just wanted some new clothes and I'm sorry if I look silly-"

The tear slid down his cheek, Harry waited until it fell from his chin before he looked back down at the floor. Then on a whim he collapsed to his knees.

He never said he didn't have a flair for the dramatic.

"-and I w-woulnd't have v-visited you at all if I knew you were just going to make f-fun of me. Draco thought it looked n-nice, well he didn't tell me he just s-sort of s-stared at me and didn't blink but his father said it was because he thought I l-looked nice and-"

"Aw Hell."

Cold finger tips on his chin tilted it up for Harry to see Tom kneeling in front of him. He was quiet surprised when Tom lifted him into his lap and patted his head awkwardly before wrapping his arms around him.

"I apologize."

One hundred million points to team Harry! One minute. Five minutes.

And... then he felt a little bad. He really needed to strangle his inner Gryffindor. It was inconvenient.

"Er look I wasn't really that upset I..er.."

"I know." Said Tom, tightening his grip and showing no signs of releasing Harry any time soon.

_Say what now?_

Harry gasped and pointed at Tom accusingly. "You used me so you could have an excuse to cuddle someone!"

The mini Dark Lord's smile faded immediately.

"It's alright Tom, even psychopaths need love. I won't judge. Or tell. Nope, never. Your secret sure is safe with me." Harry grinned maliciously.

Would this be an inappropriate time to cackle?

Slight pause. Blue eyes narrowed. The arms around him became as steel bars holding him in place.

"So, about _Draco Malfoy._"

Caught that did he?

"Er...?"

"You said he stared at you."

"Er."

"Did you have fun getting clothes with _Draco_?"

"Er."

"Making _Friends_ are you now?"

"Well I-"

Tom pulled him to his feet, dusted him off then wrapped a long-fingered hand around his neck.

"You aren't _forgetting_ about me are you Harry?" He asked sweetly, which was terrifying for Harry.

"Of course not-"

The hand squeezed.

"I thought _I _was your friend Harry. If you weren't my friend anymore, well, I don't know what I'd do."

Harry tried to pull the fingers from his throat.

"I-"

"And I really don't like other people trying to take my things away from me."

"I'm _not_ a possession." Harry gasped out. He was pretty sure he was turning blue by now if the fuzzy spots in the corners of his eyes were anything to judge such things by.

Tom pushed his back against the wall, releasing his throat and placing his hands on either side of Harry, effectively caging him in.

"But you are _little pretty. _You are mine. You were mine the moment I saw you. And I'll not share you with anyone, not Dumbledore or Draco Malfoy or your relatives or the wizarding world. I spent fifty years in that diary reliving my memories with no one and nothing out side of them until you allowed my escape. You were my motivation Harry. You gave me a purpose. I will not let anything take you away from me. Even if I have to crush it all so there's nothing left but me for you to turn to, even if I have to _lock you away _Harry."

He swallowed.

"Now, I like to show off things I know other's will be envious of, so I do want you to continue with your plans _little pretty. _But don't ever forget to whom you belong."

Harry nodded and gave a mocking Boy Scout salute.

Tom stepped back. He must have been very surprised indeed when Harry promptly flung himself at him in a hug because he gave out a bit of a gasp and was almost knocked over.

"_Aww_, you were jealous of Draco. That's so cute! Don't worry, I won't forget you Tom. You'll always be my first psychopath and no one can take _that_ away."

"...That's what you took from that?"

Harry pulled back to look up at the older teen.

"_And_ you think I'm pretty!"

Another hug, then a beaming smile and clasped hands and unnecessary cooing that would earn anyone else a good _Crucio. _But he wasn't Harry Potter_ the-boy-who-lived_ anymore, no sir, he was Harry Potter the _beautiful-melancholy-orphan_. He, dutifully as it'd be a shame to let all that training go to waste, widened his eyes in unrepentant fake-joy and bounced up and down. Dark Lords beware!

"It's alright Tom, I think you're pretty too."

Tom Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Harry studiously ignored that in favor of celebrating his victory inside his mind. After all, not may people could distract the future Voldemort with as much finesse as he did. Unmanly, very embarrassing finesse but effective none the less.

Ginny. Draco. Lord Malfoy. Tom.

He was getting good at this manipulation business, maybe he _should_ have been in Slytherin after all.

Now...to use his powers for good or for evil?

Choices.

"You do know you're talking aloud don't you?"

"Of...course I did. It's a _soliloquy._ I thought you were educated?"

Tom smirked.

"_Spell_ soliloquy."

"..."

He did not pout. He didn't. He, in a very rugged and manly way, showed his displeasure of doom. Or something.

"Idiot."


	13. Mental

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>I heard the reverberating footsteps syncing up to the beating of my heart<em>

_And I was positive that unless I got myself together I would watch me fall apart; I can't let that happen again_

_Who I am hates who I've been 'cus who I've been only ever made me so sorry for the person I became..._

_I'm ready to be sure I never become that way again_

_Because who I am hates who I've been_

* * *

><p>"You're thinking too much Harry."<p>

Harry blinked and looked away from the book he'd been staring at unseeingly. He turned and called out into the main area of the chamber, "How do you know? I could be knitting!"

"..._are_ you knitting?"

Harry pouted. "No."

A tall brunette made an appearance, bending long legs to sit beside the small Gryffindor.

"What is wrong? You may as well tell me, I can feel the emotions buzzing over the link anyway."

The boy looked at Harry expectantly. Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, crossing his arms before immediately uncrossing them and flailing them dramatically as he spoke.

"Life would be so much easier to traverse if the villains and the heroes stuck to the script and looked the part. What do you do when what is supposed to be right seems so wrong and intolerable? When the good guys are at the top of your list of people you cant stand and the bad guys are all witty and relate-able? What then?"

Tom arched a brow. "You're asking _me_?"

"Who else should I ask?"

The Slytherin leaned back against the wall. "We can not choose our truths, not really. We can only choose what we do about them."

Harry rearranged himself to lay his head on Tom's shoulder. He sighed mournfully.

"But that is my very problem. Even after realizing truths I still don't know where I should go next. I thought I knew, or I think I know, but then I feel guilty for thinking what I'm thinking and I don't want to feel guilty because I shouldn't _have_ to feel guilty for thinking my own thoughts and having my own opinion and making my own choices."

"No, you shouldn't." Tom agreed.

"Tom?"

"Harry?"

"I think I might be the villain in this story."

The older boy smiled. "We've all a little villain inside of us. I see no harm in indulging it now and then. Sometimes we _need_ to be the bad guy for a little while."

Harry sat up and looked at Tom. "Really?"

Tom nodded. "Some of us are born to be rebellious. To break rules and bend laws and do things we shouldn't be able to do. It wouldn't do to let things like Time and Death and Fate get too cocky."

"But a villain Tom! I'm not supposed to be the villain."

"Do you _want_ to be the villain?"

He chewed his lip. "Yes, actually."

"Then be the villain. Besides, the story is only as good as its villain."

"I best be a good one then."

"Tom?"

"Little Pretty?" Harry made a face.

"Is it possible the perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe got so boring that eating the Apple was justified?"

"That is a dangerous question Harry."

"It's a dangerous world Tom."

Tom smirked. "That it is."

"I am part of what makes it dangerous now, aren't I?"

"You always were. But yes. And soon, even more so. Now you are dangerous because you're making choices. Soon you will be dangerous because others will_ know_ you are making choices. And then, your choices will start affecting other people more than you'd known they would, and you'll continue making them anyway. That's when they'll realize they should have been afraid."

Harry twisted his sleeve. "I liked it. Before. When they scattered about me like cockroaches because they thought I was you. I thought it was so funny."

"You're allowed to find it funny Little Pretty."

He swallowed. " I know."

"They didn't care about _your_ feelings did they?"

"No."

"It's just the Golden Rule. Treat others as you wish to be treated right? You are only doing as they've asked."

Harry smiled. "I like that."

"Thank you."

They sat quietly for a moment.

"Harry?"

"Tom?"

"It is alright to be yourself. You know. Even if they don't like it."

The younger boy didn't say anything so Tom continued.

"If knowing yourself and being yourself were as easy to do as to talk about and preach, there wouldn't be so many people walking around in borrowed postures, spouting second-hand ideas, trying desperately to fit in. All of them? They're all trying to find themselves too."

"It isn't that I want to fit in really...it is that I want to be accepted for what I am. I wish to belong in spite of it. I wish to be worthy of friendship and admiration even if I don't want to be the hero. Even if I am imperfect and make bad choices and sometimes I'd like to sleep in rather than get up and fight dragons."

"You are already worthy of admiration Little Pretty. To strive to be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you into something else is a great accomplishment. You don't get medals for it or a front page of the newspaper. People don't name their children after you for it. But it is great all the same."

Harry pinched Tom.

"Fuck. What was that for you insolent little kitten?"

"Kitten? Really?"

"You'e a cat aren't you? Being a Gryffindor?"

"Lions have cubs."

"So do wolves."

Harry grinned. "I like wolves."

Tom smacked the back of Harry's head. "Why did you pinch me little monster?"

"I wasn't sure you were you. You don't sound insane at all." Both of Tom's brows rose.

"Why should I be insane?"

Harry shrugged. "You want to take over the world don't you?"

"No." Said Tom. "I want to change the world."

"I'd prefer to rule it I think. I don't care for changing it really, only as far as I need to to influence people. I'd really like to be it's King though. Or Emperor, that sounds more impressive."

"Why?"

"To throw it in their faces. So they can look up from their knees and think of all the things they didn't do properly in regard to me and then wonder if I remember them and if I do what shall become of them. I want to see that look on their faces. One by one."

"What_ shall_ you do with them?"

Harry ran fingers through his hair, as he'd seen Draco do, and raised his chin. "I have absolutely no idea. Make them cry perhaps."

"Cursing makes people cry."

Harry thought about it. "Cursing like swearing or cursing like _Avada Kedavra?_"

"Both, actually. You've got to choose your moments. Like funerals. Or Christenings."

"Christenings?"

"Yes. Of Princes or Princesses when their parents have wronged you."

"...was that a fairy tale reference?"

"Maybe."

"You are so twisted."

Tom hummed noncommittally. "Have you come to terms with the decisions you'd made before I came in here and forced you to acknowledge them?"

"...yes."

"Then, I suppose, we've climbed over the wall that is innocence and finally glimpsed the other side."

Harry nodded slowly, puffing hair through his bangs. "I am not certain I prefer this view to none at all."

"You should have thought of that before you let your curiosity get the better of you." The future Dark Lord pointed out, shrugging.

"Perhaps. But I look so cool when I twirl my wand!"

He grabbed Tom's sleeve when the other boy made to stand. "You can be a villain too. If you want. I don't mind sharing the role."

Tom smirked and pat his head. "I think I'll keep you."


	14. Breakdown

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

Warnings: Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Darkness<em>

_Fear is ever-changing and evolving_

_I've been poisoned inside but I, I feel so alive_

_Nobody can save me now, the only sound is the battle cry_

_Nobody can save me now, no_

* * *

><p>No matter how interesting your day was or how far you went along your journey, when you are a child you still have to go home eventually. Even when that home was a room with bars on the window and a locked door and aunts who weren't really your aunts, with dogs who wanted very much to maul you. So he was back in his room and pacing and annoyed and wanting to be anywhere but there. It's remarkable how boring a room with six locks can be when you've discovered treachery, made alliances and bantered with a dark lord all in one day. Things like rooms that are prisons and food that is questionable becomes a lot less exciting in comparison. Of course if the food should be poisoned that might liven things up. Not for Harry but for someone somewhere surely.<p>

It just seemed like a bit of a let down to all the madness of the day. He'd even spent a few hours debating things with Tom and reading Slytherin's private journals. Not one person from this house had noticed his absence. If he had any guarantee they'd continue along those lines he might never have come back. As it is he was supposed to stick around to garner more infor off Dumbledore and his mysterious reasoning for keeping him here. But honestly, couldn't something happen to make it a bot more bearable? A mad house elf perhaps? Mass murderers breaking into the kitchen and demanding pudding? A frickin' working television? _Something._

He rescinded his previous thought and everything about it when he was forced downstairs for a 'family' meal, or a mock Harry merrily while getting utterly sloshed session as it could be more accurately described. This was not what Harry had in mind when he found his room boring.

He stared up at the celieing where is room would be.

"I've insulted it and now it's punished me." He whispered sadly.

Harry made up for the potentially tedious motions of 'insult Harry time' accidentally, by being so adorable in his new image that Aunt Marge took a strange liking to him. It was strange not because she liked him, though that was strange for Harry, it was strange because she showed her affection by insulting him accidentally. She slandered his parents to her calorie ridden heart's content, all the while patting his cheek, as he was made to sit beside her, and telling him how wonderful it was he was growing out of his odd stage and how lovely he was turning out. She then praised Uncle Vernon for his choice in schooling for Harry but apparently was concerned that it would be to harsh for one as delicate as him. This delicate business was all Draco's fault He didn't know how, and yes it was illogical, but he blamed the blonde for it anyway. It was a massive blow to his manhood to be called delicate.

What boy dreamed of growing up and being pretty or fragile or delicate? None of them! Why couldn't he be dashing or rugged or swarthy or something that sounded masculine all on it's own?

In order to remedy the numbness of his reddening cheek from all the pinching, and embarrassment of being called things like sweet and cute by his Uncle's sister, Harry took matters into his own hands. Namely by keeping Marge's glass as full as possible with alcohol. One hour later and she was very drunk indeed. Harry waited for it. And waited for it. Then he saw his chance.

"The boy isn't off the road yet Marge. Look at him! He's a pansy that's what. It's a disgrace. He needs that school Marge. They'll toughen him up a bit there."

Harry was actually quite offended by this. He made certain to let Marge see his dramatic tears.

"They'll do no such thing!" Marge bellowed. "I'll not have those vulgar men touching my nephew. Harry is the sensitive sort, you ought to have him in an art school or some such Vernon."

The young wizard watched gleefully as the muggle-battle raged, twirling his knife, ignoring his meal entirely.

"Honestly Marge, a child of five could understand what I meant." Growled Vernon.

The large woman turned to Harry. "Fetch me a child of five!"

He looked around the room. "Mentally or physically?"

Marge clapped him on the back then pounded on the table. "See? That there! He's got a mind in there Vernon. He shouldn't be wasting it!"

"My money is not a waste Marge."

She flailed both hands in frustration, sloshing wine. "He should be learning literature or painting or an instrument like a proper gentleman."

"What...have you...done...?" Asked Dudley, who'd found the sight interesting enough to turn away from the Telly.

Harry waved him off. "Shh. Now is the time for senseless bickering."

"But why?" Dudley blinked dull eyes. Not the sort of dull Donovan had. The sneaky sort that caught you off guard with the cunning beneath. This was a more honest and sad sort of dull.

Harry stared. "100,000 and you were the fastest huh?"

"What're you talking about freak?" Asked Dudley, who knew enough to know when he was being insulted.

Sometimes.

"I don't have enough time to explain it to you. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"

Petunia kicked Harry beneath the table.

"You'll regret this when she's finally left next week you know." His aunt informed him from the corner of her mouth, eyeing the stains on her floor bitterly.

"Madame, I only have it in me to dread one day at a time."

She didn't answer. Harry didn't know if it was because she couldn't feel bothered to answer or if it was because she was envisioning the products needed to get wine out of a white rug. In Harry's opinion she ought to dye it red and be done with it. Aunt Marge had more than enough blood in her bloated veins to make it happen.

Harry paused. He really needed to arrange a visit to a therapist. It needed to be on a list highlighted somewhere. This might be one of those secret things that you didn't strive to hide from the world but from yourself. No one needed to know the depths of his mental instability, not even himself.

So the time passed and Marge waved her glass around, wine sloshed, the dog barked and yapped, Vernon insulted and argued, Dudley stared at the telly vacantly and Petunia counted the days to Marge's departure. It was a lovely meal. The best he could remember having at number four Privet Drive. At eight that night Marge and Vernon were arrested for having a fist fight on the front lawn in front of the neighbors to Petunia's horror.

At nine that night he was thrown out the front door with his belongings and a warning to keep away the rest of the holiday. Harry couldn't imagine a better way to end the day.

Still, the carpets would look lovely red.


	15. To the left, To the left

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings**: Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>It's in the way you sell every word and phrase, leaving me to know how much the meaning weighs<em>

_Saying that but meaning this, using your hands for emphasis_

_There's that smile again, you fake it and I follow you right in_

_What a fool_

* * *

><p>The Night Bus was glorious. Why hadn't anyone told him about this? Was it a conspiracy? He'd never heard of it before, it was loads better than floo powder! An endless experiment in the realm of chance. The ultimate gamble. Would everyone live tonight? Would the little lady on the street get plastered to the front of the bus and scrape along the ground? Would the persons riding the bus smack against the windows a bit too hard and leaving a terrifying impression in the glass? Faster and faster, darting in and out of traffic and around buildings in a variety of improbably ways.<p>

Harry stared out the front window of the bus in fascination. "So many pedestrians...so little time."

Draco, who'd come to collect him when Harry sent an owl informing him of his need for collecting, looked amused. "Enjoying ourself are we?"

Harry nodded dreamily, watching people nearly get flattened again and again.

The conductor type person, Stan maybe, grinned. "Tis not often we get ones that like it like we do. Especially at ten at night. "

Harry sent him a beaming smile. "I think it is the best mode of transportation ever invented."

Stan slapped him on the back. "You'll have to come work the routes with me someday. You'd like that?"

The Gryffindor clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling. "_Would _I!"

Draco snickered behind him at the blush creeping up Stan's neck. the man was properly smug now, puffing up and soaking in the attention to his work. Probably the only time anyone had ever properly appreciated it. "Is that what you'd like to do for your profession Harry? _Heir Conductor?_" Teased the blonde.

"No." Said Harry. "I have other plans."

Stan smiled. "T'aint proper for a proper fellow like this one anyway. If I had a fine house name I'd like to open me a transport house. Y'know, with magical bikes and skateboards and things, like the muggles have."

Harry bounced on his feet. "That's a swell idea!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I intend on researching rare plants for potions and maybe dabble in Alchemy. Until I claim Lordship of course."

"I'd like a signed copy if you write a book about it." Said Stan, seriously.

The blonde Slytherin gave his first real smile. "I'd be sure to get you one."

"I'd like to have my own green houses to experiment with cross breeding rare and endangered plant life." Said a boy with dark blond hair in the bed near Harry.

"Neville?" Asked Harry, standing on his tiptoes and leaning over the bed.

"Hi Harry."

"Neville!" He gave his fellow Gryffindor a hug, leaping on to the bed with his feet dangling.

The shy student flustered slightly and cleared his throat. "Nice to see you too Harry."

"You're in a good mood." said Draco suspiciously. "What have you done?"

Harry smirked. "I'll never tell."

"I'd like a flying carpet, if we're all putting our opinions in the pot." Said a dark haired kid in the bed beside Nevile.

"I'd like to have the heart of a powerful, respected, secretly manipulative wizard." Added Harry.

Stan perked up. "Is that your ambition then? For when you grow up?"

"What? _Merlin no_. I'd just like to have it in a jar on my desk to peer in at from time to time. My ambitions are far more... eccentric."

It was silent for a moment.

Draco gave the small boy a hug. "I have no idea what I did for entertainment before you came along."

"Tortured house elves and insulted me behind my back?" Suggested Harry.

"A bit." Draco admitted.

Neville sat up around Harry, who was still in his lap. "Do you still?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"_Do you _still talk about me behind my back?"

Draco crossed his arms, insulted. "Of course not Harry. Now that we're friends I'll do the honorable thing and insult you to your face."

The dark haired boy who wanted a flying carpet and wasn't interested in introducing himself snorted. "That's noble?"

"Tis the mark of true friendship." Stan said. The boy looked dubious.

Draco smiled and gave a nod. "That's right you know. True friends stab you in the _front!_"

"I think I'd stab from the left." Harry said, tilting his head to the left and pondering the direction.

The blonde raised a brow. "Why the left?"

"Why not the left?"

"...Fair enough."

"So, then, I'd stab from the left. It's decided."

"But we know now, don't we?" Asked flying carpet boy.

Neville furrowed his brows. "Isn't that point of stabbing in the front though Darren? To make it fair? So you see it coming?"

"Yes and besides, if someone tells you they're gonna stab you from the left and you don't feel it necessary to keep watch on the left from now on- well it's you're own fault for getting stabbed isn't it?" Harry sniffed.

"I suppose."

_"We shouldn't be stabbing anyone at all!" _Shouted flying carpet boy, henceforth Darren, at the top of his God-damned lungs.

Everyone jumped. Harry pressed a hand to his chest and glared.

"You'd prefer cursing them then?" Asked Neville, curiously.

Draco straightened up and examined the new boy with a little more interest.

"What? No!"

"No? Then how _would _you off someone?"

"Well I suppose I'd- wait I'm not getting involved in this sort of conversation."

"He's right you know." Said Stan. "If you really want to succeed at it you probably shouldn't tell anyone."

"Thats Slytherin Stan!"

"It happens to the best of us."

Draco scowled. "There's nothing wrong with being a little Slytherin now and then. You lot could use it."

The bus stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron, where all of them were going, and Stan's mood noticeably dampened when he waved goodbye.

"Hey, isn't that a Weasely?"

Harry turned. An older boy leaned against the outside of the pub, reading a book. He wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for the hair. "Percy?"

The boy lowered his book. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"I got kicked out, you?"

Percy blinked but didn't comment. "We came back from Ginny's death rites yesterday. Mum and Dad decided we should stay here until school starts. They have a lot of running around to do anyway. I think Mum want's to stay busy so she doesn't think about it."

"Oh." Harry cocked his head as they all started inside. "I like what you've done with your hair. It's cool. All spiky."

"His hair is cold?" Asked Darren, confused.

Percy felt his hair, bemused.

"Dead people are cold." Said Nevile, opening the door. Silence.

"Well, they _are_." He muttered.

Harry shrugged and took a seat. "He's not wrong."

"Unless they're poisoned." Percy said, knowledgeably. "Then they're sort of lukewarm because it takes such a long time for them to die and for the blood to coagulate."

"And you know what they say! The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Harry said, putting in his order.

Nevile put in his order as well, then turned to Harry. "That's a lie."

"Oh?"

"It's through his chest. With an Axe. What sort of mutant people have you been killing?"

"I don't know Neville..." said Harry, slowly, "What sort of people have _you _been killing?"

Plates were on the table before them, food smells drifting along, their stomaches groaning in relief. "Toast." Said Neville, taking a bite.

Draco stared. "...what."

"Toast. Toast is delicious."

Harry patted the odd boy on the head. "That it is Neville."

"Ever notice they don't have anything fun on the menu?"

"Like what Darren?"

Darren tugged at his hair and sighed. "Oh I don't know. Pudding maybe, or ice cream. Smoothies?"

"Spaghetti." Put in Draco.

"Hot Dogs."

"Hot-"

"-Dogs?" Asked the twins, sitting at the table.

"A sort of sausage on a stick surrounded by bread." Explained Harry.

"Muggles are strange creatures."

"I like dogs but I wouldn't keep one as a pet." Said Nevile half an hour later.

"Why not?" Asked Draco, once he'd gotten over the randomness of the comment.

"Dogs are for cowards who haven't the guts to bite people themselves." Commented Harry.

"You're a delicious sort of special Harry." Said Fred.

"The tastiest." Said George.

"I'm much too young for cannibalism. I'd suggest someone more matured."

"Nuts." Said George, smiling.

"Foiled." Said Fred.

"Grilled?" Suggested Neville, eying Harry thoughtfully.

Harry smacked him on the head with his book. "Bad Neville."

"Yes, little red heads are much better for grilling." Said Draco, staring at Ron, who'd joined them a few minutes earlier, pointedly.

Everyone laughed but for Ron, who wasn't at all sure that they were kidding. Hey, Slytherins got up to all kinds of evil things didn't they? Who knows.

"Harry. You're a bit dark, you know? Dark, but sweet." Said Draco, messing up Harry's hair.

Harry huffed and tried to flatten it back down. He needed to straighten it again.

"Chocolate..." Muttered Percy, who rose and left without explanation.

"Not going to throw a fit about me sitting at the same table then?" Asked Ron after another hour of sleep deprived conversation. Mrs Weasley had ordered them all to bed three times now. After hearing the last conversation she hadn't come back down.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'd forgotten you were even there."

"Git." Muttered Ron.

"Aw, we're all together and no one's died yet!" Harry cooed.

They said their good nights soon after, each going to their own rooms. Harry was rooming with Draco since he was the one with the money and he'd only gotten one room. He might have regretted it when Harry mentioned needing to arrange a session with a therapist then started snuggling him like a teddy bear.

It was an excellent ending to a fantastically odd adventure.


	16. Like Candy

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Don't leave me alone, cause I can barely see at all<em>

_Don't leave me alone _

_I'm falling in the __black, s__lipping through the cracks, falling to the depths I can never go back_

_Can you hear me?_

_Falling in the black, slipping through the cracks_

_Falling inside, falling inside_

_The black_

* * *

><p>This was one of the strangest nights of Draco's life, and really that was saying something. It hadn't started out strange, in fact it had been boring. Not much went on, he read a few books his godfather sent him, signed a few forms for Harry's thirteenth birthday celebration, received a kiss from his mother and a pat on the shoulder from his father for work well done. Then he'd retired to his room to draw. He hadn't expected a snowy owl, that he immediately recognized, to start pecking at his window like the hounds of Hell were after her. Nor had he expected a request for rescue.<p>

Draco grinned and shook his head. "You're a bit dark, you know? Dark, but sweet." He said, messing up his small friend's hair.

The Gryffindor gave him a glare and a huff and meticulously smoothed down his raven locks. And people thought Draco was vain.

"Chocolate..." Muttered the older Weasley, who then left without another word.

Draco stared. Gingers were insane. Not Harry insane, legitimately in need of healing potions insane. There was a difference. Harry had selective, reality-sucks-so-I'm-going-to-go-on-holiday-for-a-bit madness. The Weasleys? They had their own little corner of crazy all to themselves.

"Not going to throw a fit about me sitting at the same table then?" Sneered the Weasel.

Draco was going to ignore his existence as long as the annoying boy did the same out of respect for their loss, but he was making it hard for Draco. He sighed and rolled his silver eyes. "I'd forgotten you were even there."

There, he didn't even mention the word poor.

"Git." Muttered the Weasel.

"Aw, we're all together and no one's died yet!"

"Yet." Whispered Draco. "Yet."

Either Harry didn't hear or he pretended he didn't. Hard to tell when the small boy was in one of these moods.

By unanimous telepathic vote they decided it was time for bed. Probably for the best as the longer the night went on the stranger their conversations became. Draco sent Harry along to their room while he shrunk his trunk and picked up their books. He found his way up the stairs blocked. It was the Weasel. A quick glance around and he saw they were alone downstairs in the now ominous flickering candle light. The only sound muted arguing from the mother and father Weasel in a room off to the side. Draco cursed, held his books against a hip and raised a brow.

"Well? Can I...help you?"

"Why are you being so nice to Harry Malfoy? I thought you were waiting for your father and passing the time slumming it. Now, suddenly, you're on speaking terms with Neville and making jokes with Percy? I didn't even know Percy joked! What are you doing?"

"Oh I didn't tell you? That must mean it's none of your business. As far as your brother goes I think it's sad that you don't know your own sibling well enough to see that he makes jokes frequently, they're just sarcastic and as such a good staircase above your level of conversational intelligence. Longbottom and I have known each other far longer than you and he have known each other and if I wish to tease him or I wish to be polite is entirely my own prerogative and between myself and him. He is more than capable of handling it himself, in his own quiet way, and you embarrass him when you interfere."

The Weasel stared, momentarily stunned.

"Furthermore, as Harry's _first companion_, it is my duty to help him where he requires it. As such we are renting a room here for tonight. Anything other than that you need to get from Harry. It isn't my business to share."

"First companion..."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the newly goblin forged Potter/Malfoy companionship agreement coin. He waved it in the air before the other boy's eyes.

"Everyone hates you." The read haired boy exploded, frustrated at not getting a rise out of Draco. "Some of them suck up to you and some of them are polite to your face but _everyone _hates you."

"Yes. And I cry about it everyday." The Slytherin pointed at his face, "See the tears?"

The Weasel glared. Articulation wasn't his strong point.

"Anything else? No? Enjoy restful isochronic waves Weasel."

Draco marched passed him and up the stairs. Who did that soulless prat think he was?

He opened the door and saw Harry pacing inside muttering to himself. Draco took a breath, settled the books on the little table beside the bed, unshrunk the trunk in the corner and stalked forward. He grasped the other boy by a shoulder and turned him to face him.

"Alright. Tell me whats the matter."

"What?"

"Something is wrong. Something upset you. You were fine in the morning, what's changed since then? Not that I don't find nonsense entertaining, but you delve into it like this when reality is something you don't feel like dealing with. Obviously there is something. Let's not forget you needed to be picked up after having been thrown out of your home. So. Talk."

"You can't tell what I say according to your companionship oath right?"

Draco rolled his eyes_. "Yes."_

Harry puffed a breath through his bangs, nodded and sat on the floor with his back to the wall, arms around his knees. Draco sat beside him.

"It's silly really. My Aunt Marge came to visit. She isn't really my Aunt, she's Vernon's, that's my Aunt's husband, Vernon's sister. Normally she hates me. They'll force me to sit at dinner with them so they can watch her make all these comments and about me and my parents. She'll explain everything that's satisfactory about my cousin Dudley and then go on to explain, in detail, why I fail to meet the same marks. My looks or my way of talking or my attitude or, and this is her favorite, my breeding. She breeds dogs you see. Everything is blood to her. Not like it is to you though. No, she thinks I ought to have been drowned at birth. But today was strange. She thought I was cute. And then, like none of the things she'd done to me before had every happened, she suddenly favoured me. Just like that. No apologies or anything, just an abrupt change form insults to smiles because suddenly I was acceptable. And in that moment I wanted to kill her. I wanted to kill them all. I wanted to hurt them. I wanted them to feel the way I feel everyday when I'm with them. And it sucked because there was no way they'd ever understand. They'd never be able to see it that way and they'll never apologize. My whole world revolved around restraining myself from retaliating. Then she pinched my cheek." Harry shuddered.

"Then...?'

Harry coughed and averted his eyes.

"Harry?"

"I may have gotten her drunk. And then might have encouraged an argument between her and Vernon that ended in a fist fight in the front yard where everyone could see."

Draco tried to hold his laugh in. It failed spectacularly.

Harry started laughing beside him. "Yeah. I could have handled that better."

He snorted. "In a variety of ways Harry."

"Hush. I was traumatized. I hate her, you know? I hate them. I wanted them to be humiliated. I wanted them to fight. To feel bad. And the carpet would look good red. It would. And I was tired and I just found out about some things, and then you and I were in Gringotts and then I was with a friend of mine and I was deciding my whole future and _dammit I wanted the carpets red."_

"Paint the roses red." Recited Draco.

"Marge Red." Said Harry.

"Loathed Relative Red. That's the best sort."

Harry grinned. "Tis the privilege of friendship is to talk nonsense and have nonsense returned."

"Well," said Draco, "we _are_ friends now, aren't we?"

The small Gryffindor blinked. "Yes, I suppose we are."

"Then go on and speak your nonsense Harry, when the world is too much for you, and I shan't judge you for it. I shall even join in. We can all use a good holiday in nonsense once in a while, even Malfoys."

Harry played with the edges of his pajamas, starting and stopping a sentence before he said. "I don't think I'm a good person Draco."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I don't think the way a good person should, or do what they should do. I ought to forgive my relatives and then move on when I'm old enough. I thought I came to terms with it, but I guess I haven't."

"Err is human. To forgive just because you should is plain stupid. We're human Harry, even the muggles. And we hurt each other. We hurt people we care for and we hurt people we dislike. It's a part of being human. I'm sure the Weasel and the book worm have hurt you before. I've hurt you before and now we're friends of all things. People are going to hurt you Harry, you just have to sort through the mess and figure out which are worth suffering for. And then of course which are worth the small fortune it costs to have proper voodoo dolls made of them so they can suffer the rest of their lives for betraying your trust and hurting you in the first place. Tis only fair. "

They sat together in the quiet for a while. Neither of them saying anything, just sitting beside one another and understanding each other's secret shadows beneath their words. Things they'd never bring up.

The arguing from downstairs became louder.

"Ah. White noise."

Draco smacked the back of Harry's head. "It's two-thirty in the morning, stop being so positive."

"I regret to inform you but a damn cannot be given at this time."

"Maybe you ought to consider restocking."

"I regret to inform you, but the psyche ward isn't accepting suggestions at this time."

Draco laughed. "Alright, I think you need to sleep the crazy off. I'll go get another room so you can, I don't know, feel safe to be upset I suppose."

Harry shrugged and jumped into the bed.

"Draco?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I need to make an appointment with a therapist at some point, okay? Don't let me forget. Remind me in the morning."

"What is a-"

Harry pulled him down onto the bed, brought up the blanket and snuggled close to him like he was Draco Malfoy Teddy Bear. "Night Draco."

Draco pretended to huff irritably, turning his head to the side to hide a smile.

"Good night Harry."

_My odd, broken little Gryffindor._


	17. TMI

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Take a breath, hold it in, don't start a fight you won't win<em>

_Now you turn the tide on me 'cause you're so unkind_

_You're the devil in disguise, I'm the one you left behind_

_So I'll find what lies beneath your sick twisted smile_

_As I lie underneath your cold jaded eyes_

* * *

><p>Now that Draco was sufficiently fashioned into his own personal protector Harry found his life becoming ever more entertaining. There were terrifying bits, like guest lists and memorization of names and paper work to go through at Gringotts in very uncomfortable chairs, but the better parts made up for it. Watching Ron and Draco pretend the other didn't exist at meals what great fun. The Weaselys had decided Draco must be decent if Harry was willing to be around him and so didn't bother him much. Bless them.<p>

In fact Mrs Weasely had hugged him several times after she learned he was an only child. Harry thought she was displacing her grief for her only daughter and focusing on smothering another child to fill the void left in her heart.

Draco thought she wanted to crush him to death.

Tom was displeased that Harry wasn't able to stay with him in the Chamber but he had to concede when Harry pointed out everyone would want to know where he was staying and not telling them would certainly raise some flags. The last thing they needed was someone investigating the muggles back at Privet Drive.

Tom reckoned he could turn on the water works and get out of it but Harry wanted to use his cuteness sparingly. If he did it too many times Draco would start to catch on that he was being played and that just wouldn't do. Tom could wait. Harry needed to carefully build an image of himself in the eyes of the Malfoys. After a while they would fill in the blanks on their own and continue to see him as this character even when he slipped. Tom knew this too of course, since he'd been the one to teach these techniques to Harry in the first place. The Gryffindor thought that Tom might be lonely, but the older boy would admit no such thing.

That was okay, Harry knew he was just a big sociopathic teddy bear on the inside.

Having Draco as first companion was beneficial in a myriad of ways, the most important, to Harry, being that Harry could look to him before doing anything and follow his lead. He took Draco's advice for seating arrangements, physical proximity, terms of address. Anything that might inadvertently get him sold to somebody as willing potions ingredients. Draco took all of this in his expected, smug sort of way and everyone thought it was Harry showing respect for his new confidant. None of them realized that Harry didn't have a dammed clue what he was doing. He still didn't know all the details of his first mess with Draco, other than companionship, and frankly he was hoping everyone else present at the time would forget all about it so he'd never have to find out.

Preparation for the celebration of his thirteenth birthday was even more convoluted and resulted in almost constant note taking in Tom's diary. Out of the two of them only Tom had an insane memory of ridiculous recall. Harry had to memorize concepts and then wing it as he went along unless Tom told him what to do or Draco was around for him to copy. The Malfoys were coming under the impression he was a secret Ravenclaw. There were worse things he supposed.

Like lessons. Harry hadn't known prior to this, and indeed still didn't desire to know, that the cut of one's clothing, the colours chosen and their shade and placement and material were all chosen carefully according to your status, the beliefs and image you wished to portray and anything else you wanted people to know about you without asking. Were you from an old family? Did you have dark affiliations or neutral affiliations? Were you independent politically or were you a ministry boot licker? Or were you an independent who wanted to be portrayed as a boot licker in such a way other independents might know you were faking? It was a huge secret code wide out in the open and you could only understand if you were in the right club.

For instance the Hogwarts basic uniforms were all the shame shapeless cut, colour and material. On purpose. This way after you have been house affiliated you can start adding your own touches to the uniform. Runes along the seams for general cleanliness, anti-wrinkle charms and minor hex repellent, coloured stitching to denote your family or clan, altered cuts to show your status within your family or within the wizarding world or both. It was all there and now that he was learning it he was picking it up as he followed Draco around Diagon Alley and even through Gringotts. Harry could tell with a glance who was a supporter of Voldemort, who supported Dumbledore, who approved of the ministry, who was from old money or was married recently or available for betrothal contracts.

Draco gleefully told him that while most purebloods and even half bloods were instructed in the bare minimum of how the system worked, the older the family, clan or house you belonged to the more you knew. The Malfoy family specifically made it a habit throughout their history to befriend and learn the secret codes of every family they met. They knew it for foreign courts and ministries, for dark magical creatures that were human like, such as the Vella courts, the Elfin courts, the Demon courts and so on. Which explained how Draco always seemed to know _everything_ about _everyone._

Harry was gaining that knowledge, but he had to walk a fine line between clever child with political potential, and _clever child with political potential_. Was he an asset or a threat? He didn't believe for a minute the Malfoys were enamored enough with him to keep him alive out of fondness should they realize he wasn't quiet as sweet and naive as he made out.

"Done."

Harry stepped off a stool and stood patiently while Draco circled around him in the vulture-like way all Malfoys apparently felt was necessary.

"It'll do." The blonde sniffed.

Harry wanted to throttle him. He hadn't spent the entire day getting fitted for two bloody outfits just to have the taller boy decide 'it would do'. He refrained though, because Harry imagined the elder Malfoy would be a tad distressed to find his heir dead on the floor.

Pity.

"Come along Harry." He allowed the blonde to pull him along by the hand, indulging in his need to show off his new companionship status to any and everyone they might meet. It amused him.

They walked down the alley, Harry seeing how many clothing codes he could decipher, until they reach Gringotts.

"Ready?" The Slytherin asked, turning to look at him.

Harry nodded, though his heart was pounding inside. Today was the day they tried to unseal his parents Wills.


	18. And One More Thing

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>I may seem crazy or painfully shy, a<em>_nd these scars wouldn't be so hidden if you would just look me in the eye_

_I feel alone and cold here though I don't want to die, b__ut the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything_

_Kills inside_

* * *

><p>Draco watched his new friend carefully. They'd come a long way this summer from where they used to be and he'd learned things he hadn't known about the smaller boy. Enough to feel jealous at times at the way the boy seemed so prepared for everything that happened to him or around him, even the flight into madness he'd gone on a few days before, and how easily he manipulated people into wanting to do things for him. Every single store they went something was thrown in for free or the total price was cut down because '<em>you're so adorable'. <em>He was jealous but he also respected it. This boy was nothing at all like the Gryffindor he was used to interacting with at school, and honestly Draco didn't act the way he did at school when he was with his friends in private either. It was just his mask, his public persona. How _delicious_ that one of Dumbledore's supposed golden pawns could be so layered and devious? Well pawn no more, he amended.

Harry sat beside him, as the boy requested every time they went anywhere important for Draco to sit beside him which emphasized the Draco's status as his first companion and was a source of endless smugness for Draco when whomever they were doing business with that day would grow very stiff and uneasy. There would be _no_ hoodwinking a companion of a Malfoy. Not without consequences.

His little friend knew it too, he'd never met such a fast learner. Harry allowed Draco to do most of the talking and arranging after informing him what he thought he wanted or needed. Which in turn was a display of trust to those who knew to look for such things. And the there was the casual intimacy. Rather than just hold hands he would sometimes wrap his arms around Draco's left arm and allow the other boy to lead him around like he was a younger sibling, or he'd take liberties with Draco's person, reaching to pockets to look at watches or get a galleon or a quick sweet from the ever expanding bag tied to Draco's belt.

_Public Displays of Favor._

While the people they were doing business with bound by secrecy, Draco could almost literally _see_ how badly they wanted to run to the alley and tell everyone they saw. After all, they had negotiations of friendships, a companionship agreement and with the displays of favor it was quite obvious they could be looking at an official alliance when both boys reached maturity. And that would be one Hell of a powerful alliance and utterly unprecedented in modern times. A house of _neutral magicks _and a house of _gray magicks _allied? Not to mention they both had Black blood running through them, a _dark aligned _house.

Draco couldn't blame them for staring.

Now, as they sat once more in the Head Manager's office in Gringotts, Draco found himself feeling quite protective of his new friend, and outraged on his behalf.

"What do you mean they can't be unsealed? He is the only heir to the House of Potter, he's been accepted by the heir ring, his thirteenth birthday and presentation to magic is in a week. He needs to see the will at least to have his heirship requirements, which may I reiterate, he'll need to have in one week."

Normally Draco would give more respect towards the goblin, as it was the lead manager of the bank, however as Harry's first companion it was his duty and right to defend his companion's estate, legacy and well being by _any_ means he deemed necessary. Showing his displeasure was more than allowable at the current moment. He was entirely in the right and by the uneasy glimmer in the goblins eyes - he knew it.

The goblin raised a hand. "Peace Heir Malfoy. You can see the Will's contents but I can not give you that permission. The Wills..." He trailed off looking very much like he wished some other goblin was lead manager and he himself could be elsewhere.

Draco glanced at Harry. His face was perfectly and eerily blank, betraying nothing. He fixed the Goblin with the trademark Malfoy icy stare.

"Speak."

The goblin nodded, pushing the large envelope containing the Will or Wills toward Draco with a somewhat shaky hand. What in Morgana's name was going on?

"The Wills remain active."

Draco stared at the three glowing names written outside the envelope, utterly lost for words.

"What...what does that mean? Draco?"

He held up a finger, requesting a minute to gather his thoughts. This wasn't a situation he'd been prepared for. In all of his training nothing like this ever came up. It was just so unlikely. Draco knew a bit of what Harry's life was like with the muggles, from things the boy said and things he did. He knew that Harry had been kept from his legacy and denied access to his heirship rights by his magical guardian Albus Dumbledore. How did he deal this small, inky headed boy, who'd quickly become a friend, what would surely be another blow against his shaky guarded walls? The closed, gated air that was always around him? How did he add another link to the fence?

He cleared his throat gently and turned to give his friend his full attention.

"Harry, a will is only active as long as at least one of the entities responsible for its creation are accessible. As long as it is active it can still be changed or altered between now and the entity's...cessation of living. We can not open it because, essentially it is not closed. There are any number of reasons for this. It could be a mistake of course or it could be under specific guidelines we can not know because we can not see what lays inside-"

Emerald eyes fixated on him with an intensity that took a good deal of willpower not to turn away from. "You will say that again, and you will say it so I know exactly what you mean. No open ended interpretations."

Draco gave a curt nod.

"There are three names on the label of the envelop for the Wills Harry. Your mother, your father and one other. This is done for many reasons. It could mean that your family chose to have a surrogate mother because Lily Potter would not or could not produce an heir. It could mean you were produced...outside of their marriage. Your legal parents being Lily and James Potter but either your _biologica_l mother or father being someone else. You could have been adopted. The list goes on. What is more important, is that it remains _active_. At least one of the people whose name is on the envelope..." he trailed off, steeled himself and took a breath.

Draco grasped both of Harry's hands in his own and squeezed.

"Harry one of them is still living."


	19. It's all in Vein

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak<em>

_I am such a freak_

_These things they haunt my mind, think about them all the time_

_How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine?_

_When I know it's not_

_I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak_

_I am such a freak_

* * *

><p>"Who?" His voice was tad more hoarse than he'd of liked but neither Draco nor the goblin acknowledged it if it was noticeable.<p>

Draco squeezed his hands again. "Are you certain you wish to know?"

Harry swallowed down an alarming amount of self-pity and wishful thinking.

"No. But I must know none-the-less. There are too many variables to let an unknown exist without any knowledge on them. If one of my parents..or whatever...is still alive, then I need to know. And I think I deserve to know why I haven't been living with them, if it is safe to demand such answers. Were they uninterested? Did they decide they were disinclined to assume responsibility of The-Boy-Who-Lived? Were they aware of my living situation?" He squeezed Draco's hands in return, released them and gave him a calm smile.

"I must know. I must know all of it. Living ten years without knowing about the magical world, nearly thirteen without knowing about my legacy...that's more than enough secrecy for me. I see no reason to continue to allow gaps in my knowledge of myself."

He would have continued if Draco didn't seem like he was about to have fit. Pale fingers grasped his shoulders and half shook him.

"What do you mean you didn't know about our world? You didn't know about magic?"

"I didn't think it was real. I didn't know about any of it until I got my letter-"

"But you knew about your parents didn't you? About The Dark Lord and everything?"

Harry felt a bit exasperated. "No I didn't, the bloody muggles didn't tell me anythi-"

"Nothing? You knew nothing?"

"_No. _I didn't know magic was real, in fact I was raised to believe that it didn't exist. And if I brought up anything close to it or if, if weird things happened around me I was beaten. Are you happy? I'm a _freak. _That's my family's point of view. Magic didn't exist. There are no _wizards_, no _magic wands_, no _flying brooms_, that's it. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Motorbikes don't fly Harry. How did you turn your teacher's wig blue Harry? No funny business Harry or it's _into the cupboard with you and no meals for a week_!"

Draco shook him a again, much harder. "Calm down. Now. Please don't make me kiss you again. There's been enough surprises for one day, let's not add making major lifestyle choices at age thirteen to the list, yeah?"

Harry deflated. "Yeah, sorry."

"Now, clearly this time, tell me. You knew nothing about the wizarding world or magic before first year and you were raised to believe such things weren't real? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Draco swallowed uneasily. "Harry...that's bloody impossible."

He scrunched up his nose. "Why?"

"Why? Because, be-because..." The blonde spluttered for a bit. "Harry, how do you have such control over your powers if you knew nothing about them? Who trained you? How did you get through your core growths? Or learn to remain calm so you didn't get hurt, or hurt someone else, with your accidental magic? How on earth did you get so good at multi-casting? It shouldn't be possible. The only reason mu-muggleborns don't learn about the wizarding world sooner is because they have a dampener on their core that is released gradually during the sixth months prior to their enrollment first year, when they are being taught about our world. And that is under supervision during scheduled appointments at St. Mungos."

Harry didn't understand a whole lot of that. "Are you saying muggleborn students get informed sixth months prior to receiving their letter? What about muggle raised I-"

"Harry everyone who isn't raised by wizards and is approaching the appropriate age for schooling in their country is given an alloted time of as little as three months, in countries where the magical and non magical communities aren't as exclusive as here, or even up to a year before they come to school to get used to the idea and confirm they wish to become a part of the magical world. If you have a high enough magical core that you might receive an official letter for enrollment you are told so it isn't a shock that it might happen. No one finds out about it all when they get their letter, that's just the confirmation. And if they've been magic raised their family has already been looking for signs of accidental magicks long before then."

Alright. Now he was feeling _a lot_ more than nothing.

"So, why wasn't I informed? I didn't know until the day I got my letter, in the summer before I came to school Draco. I thought it was a prank."

Draco wiped a hand over his face, covered his mouth, took a deep breath and let it out.

"Harry there is something very strange going on here. You...I mean, haven't you..how can you..."

"You're not making any sense."

"Where did you learn to multi-cast?"

Harry drew a blank. "Multi-cast?"

"Yes. You know?"

Harry did not.

Draco growled in frustration. "You have to be kidding me. Harry, haven't you ever noticed your spoon stirring your tea for you in the great hall? Your goblet refilling with pumpkin juice on its own? Pages turning of their own accord in books you are reading? How doors open for you or how the temperature rises or falls after you, or someone near you, comments that it's a bit cold or too hot? Or a breeze blows? "

He could feel his jaw wide open, bit he didn't feel like correcting it. "What are you talking about?"

"You do it _all_ the time. When you're playing chess with the Weasel but you're more interested in the conversations around you, you don't even say anything or look at the board but the pieces still move. Something tilts and starts to fall around you? You fling out a hand in that general direction, again without looking, and it rights its self! Everyday and all the time. Constantly. That's multi-casting and it's very hard to do if it's not a blood trait, not to mention have control of it at our age without instruction. It requires an intimate knowledge of our magic and the structure of our magical cores, how they work together. Like learning to write or to dance. It takes a long time to get good penmanship or to be able to dance well off the top of your head doesn't it? You have to learn and perfect all the little baby steps it takes before it can become an unconscious thing your body just knows how to do."

"Great. Another thing to make me a freak. Just what I needed. I can't even be normal in a world with vampires and overgrown snakes that kill people with their eyes."

"Focus Harry. If you can do it this well, without training, then its definitely a blood trait."

"So?"

The goblin cleared it's throat. "Heir Potter what Heir Malfoy is trying to tell you, is that multi-casting as a blood trait is not in the Potter bloodline."

Harry really wished people would stop looking at him expectantly.

"Harry it means you didn't get it from James Potter. You can't have gotten it from Lily Potter either."

"Why not?"

"Blood traits are only available through bloodlines in direct descendants. For instance, my mother was born a Black, thus I have can inherit blood traits through the Black bloodline. My father was born a Malfoy, thus I can inherit Malfoy blood traits through the Malfoy bloodline. The point is, if neither my mother's nor my father's bloodlines could, say, perform the animagus transformation, then I shouldn't be able to either. Because the trait isn't there to begin with. They don't just happen. They come from your _blood."_

"And Lily's parents were both muggles. She can't have inherited any traits and she can't have passed any one."

"Yes, and?"

"And it isn't a known Potter blood trait, nor is it in the family information? From some other bloodline we married in to?" He looked over at the goblin who shook his head no.

Harry swallowed. "But I had to have gotten it somewhere."

Draco nodded very slowly. "Exactly."

"What about speaking to snakes? Or making your hair grow out when it was shaved off the day before? Or," he paused, "Or healing very quickly?"

Silver eyes stared. "Healing quickly?"

"Like having a broken bone that mends its self in a day or two? Or bruises that fade overnight? Never getting sick?"

He watched Draco's eyes get wider as he talked. So healing yourself without casting a spell or drinking a potion definitely wasn't a Potter trait then. Or normal. He decided it was best not to focus too much on the normal bits just then. Normal people don't help the younger memories of a Dark Lord come to life and then let him hide in a school full of children.

In fact, he ought to steer clear of labels all together at this point.

"I'd like to see the names on the envelope now, please."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I created how magicks and politics and pureblood society functions within the world my story takes place before I even began writing the story. How am I doing? Am I making sense?

**-Pseudonymous**


	20. Grimm Discoveries

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>I can't get it out of my mind how you were left to bleed<em>

_Was it how you dressed or how you act? I can't believe how they could react_

_So violently, without regret_

_Well we will not forget_

_You're not out there on your own_

_We are the Others_

* * *

><p>It was when both Draco and the goblin reached for the envelope and moved it away from Harry before he could pick it up that he started getting suspicious. His green eyes looked between them both accusingly, only heightened by their guilty, worried faces.<p>

"What are you keeping from me?"

"Heir Potter, I'm not certain we are precisely the appropriate individuals to reveal this information nor am I of the opinion that anything at all good will come of it."

Harry was standing before he realized he'd moved. "You overstep your bounds." He looked at Draco. "Both of you. I expect that we shall have no further instances of this action, lead goblin?_ Companion?"_

Draco winced.

"Give me the envelope Heir Malfoy." Commanded Harry, mockingly though his voice was anything but amused.

The blonde held the envelope pressed to his chest a moment, gazing around the room as if an alternative course of action might present its self. Reluctantly the other boy handed it to him.

Harry remained standing, letting his authority sink in. He gave Draco a look of irritation, held up the envelope and paused. He blinked.

"I don't understand the fuss, this name means nothing to me."

Both of the room's other occupants relaxed instantly.

Harry pointed at Draco. "You will tell me. Now."

Draco's face announced to the world what he thought of that idea.

"You are my first companion it is your duty to protect my legacy and assets and fortunes as well as my well being. Are you so easily tired of such a position?"

"No of course not Harry." Draco sat up straighter.

"Then explain this."

"You may not have heard of her," he gestured at the envelope, "but surely you've heard of her uncles? Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm?"

Harry examined the envelope in his hands with more trepidation. Prima Grimm._ Grimm._

"You mean, are these the _Grimm Brothers_? They wrote muggle bedtime stories?"

"Yes."

Harry was pleased to actually know something for once.

"And no."

That didn't last long.

"They write events in history disguised as story books. They tell the truth about events in the magical world that aren't represented accurately for political reasons. They even include codes in them and banned spells as well as information that tells you where to look to learn more or meet like minded people. It's all pretty hush though. No ministry has ever been able to prove their suspicions of the Grimm Dynasty. As far as the public record is concerned, they're perfectly clean."

Harry sat down and crossed his legs. "How can they be her uncles? They have to be centuries old."

The goblin nodded this time. Harry needed to think of a name for him, he felt rude calling him the goblin in his head. Of course it was rude not to remember his name but he couldn't do much about it now. _Goblin of no name I dub thee...Crimspeck. _

"Vampires." said Crimspeck.

"Swell. I still don't see why you were trying to hide this from me?"

Draco smirked. "Not even phased by potential criminal relatives." He murmured affectionately.

"The Grimm's Dynasty is referred to as such because, roughly, they own half of the_ world's _wealth." Crimspeck's eyes were positively gleaming.

"Yes, and Prima is the Queen of their fortune, since both Wilhelm and Jacob are considered dead in the eyes of the magical world to keep their vampirism private. She's the leader of the whole clan."

Crimspeck tapped his claws on the desk, head tilted. "If you are somehow related to her, as her name being on the envelope suggests, if you are in fact her son-"

"That makes you the heir to the Grimm's fortune." Draco cut in.

Harry wasn't sure when he slid out of his chair to the floor. A world of magic? Sure thing. Wizard Jesus? Not a problem. Heir to the vampire mafia?

He swallowed. Why couldn't his parents be stamp collectors?

"Alright, so, if I'm her son why does she let Lily Potter claim that title? And why was I sent to live with Lily's sister if they aren't even my family?"

Draco's grin faded. "I don't know. Because everyone knows Prima didn't have any children. And she disappeared from the public's eye one month after The Dark Lord was supposedly defeated by you."

"How can you possibly know she didn't have any kids?"

The blonde settled himself on the floor beside Harry, since Harry hadn't moved to get back in his chair. After a moment Crimspeck walked around his desk and joined their little circle on the floor.

"She was very socially active. Father says that while most people didn't actually get to speak with her or even get near her really, she was often invited to and attended the pureblood solstice rituals, and was seen in foreign ministries all over the world. Hardly a day went by without her picture in the paper at some event or the other. If she was pregnant everyone would know."

"What's more Heir Potter, as the first female first-born to be born into the line she was blessed as a _Geminum Anima _on the day of her birth in celebration."

Harry stared at Crimspeck blankly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It means that she had certain rites and customs she had to abide by in regards to romantic relationships. If she broke any of them she'd lose her granted immortality, which is part of the gift. A _Geminum Anima _blessing is exactly that. It costs a very high price to earn it for your child and it can only be freely bestowed on a child with pure intentions. It gives her the ability to form a soul bond with her chosen life companion. This is where you hear about soul mates. The one who chooses to peruse a _Geminum Animas _blessed individual has to state an intention to court, publicly, and undergo a series of tests and trials to prove himself worthy. The immortality is a side effect, so that the child may live as long as necessary to find their chosen mate. While Prima _did _have a declaration of intention, it didn't go through. It was canceled and she never bonded."

"Why on earth would anyone give up the chance of a _soul mate?"_

Draco and Crimspeck averted their eyes uncomfortably.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

When he didn't get a response he braced himself. It couldn't get much worse, he reassured himself. He just found out his mother wasn't really his mother but his real mother couldn't have given birth to him. Harry took a deep breath and nudged Draco's arm. "Draco?"

The blonde cleared his throat but didn't look at him.

"You'd have to ask James Potter."


	21. Interlude 1: Information Overload

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>They say we are what we are but we don't have to be, I'll be the watcher of the eternal flame<em>

_Sometimes the only pay off for having any faith is when it's tested again and again everyday_

_I'm still comparing your past to my future, it might be your wound but they're my sutures_

_And live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down_

_We could be immortals, immortals, immortals_

* * *

><p>Draco sent for Donovan.<p>

The dull eyed solicitor brought forth articles and newspaper clippings from his never ending folder of information. There was probably some other less idiotic term for it but Harry certainly didn't know it.

This, like Sirius' status as his godfather, was once again one of those things where everyone knew about it. In fact it was bloody infamous in pureblood circles. Charles Potter and Dorea Potter nee Black were not able to conceive and present a blood heir or magical heir to society. As they got on in age there were many who tried to convince them to perform a magical adoption on a child from a lesser pureblood family, to keep the Potter line from ending. They refused.

Desperate, they approached the Grimms. In exchange for a favour to be determined at a later date the Grimms performed an unknown ritual to grant the Potters a child. James. A first-born son who was both a blood heir and a magical heir. His father and mother both from very powerful pureblood families, and his cousin's having a betrothal contract with the Malfoys and the Lestranges made James a potentially powerful political force and the connections and abilities needed to bring honour to his house.

When Sirius Black's thirteenth birthday came and he refused to have a proper showing into society and quit attending his heirship training his parents were frantic. The Black family legacy could only continue on in the first-born son of Black blood. The only other possibility to gain the magical inheritance and continue the line was James Potter.

It was well known that Sirius was James' favorite cousin but no one was prepared for what happened next. James offered to take on both the Black and Potter legacy's, including the responsibility to produce an heir. He took his new responsibilities in stride attending pureblood lessons and parties he would have avoided before. Sirius Black became James' first companion in thanks and endeavored to help his friend and cousin fulfill his responsibilities. While the Black boy wasn't in accord with his family's practices in private he gave a good show of solidarity in public to support James. Black and his mother came to an agreement, he'd ensure James progression and in return never again hinder the Black family's politics.

During the Summer meeting that year James met Prima Grimm. They began being seen together frequently and soon entered negotiations on friendship. From then on any time one of them was seen they were always accompanied by the other and it came as no surprise when on the Summer Solstice of the following year James performed a Declaration of Intention during the celebrations. Prima's immortality would take full effect the day of her seventeenth birthday, just after James' last year at Hogwarts. The wedding was planned take place the year after James' graduation from Hogwarts.

The response from magical society was incredible. When James completed his bond with Prima he would attain immortality as well, thus ensuring the continuation of the Potter line. Forever. Suddenly purebloods were coming out from every corner to strike alliances with the Potters, the Malfoys and the Blacks who had gone overnight from being among the highest ranking nobles houses to being _the_ highest ranking noble houses. James Potter couldn't have made a better political move and his family was proud. The happiness was not to last.

Sirius had an altercation with his mother and soon after moved in with the Potters. In his seventeenth year James starting falling out of the public eye. Of course at the time it was assumed he was concentrating on his last year at school and getting prepared for his responsibilities as a married heir to two pureblood families and wasn't unexpected. What surprised everyone was his sudden breaking of the bonding rituals and marriage to a muggleborn without his family's permission. _It was the scandal of the century._ The Grimms, infuriated and embarrassed reminded the Potters, ominously, that they owed them for a great deal and it could easily be taken away. Prima intervened in the midst of the political wars that followed and convinced her family to let it go.

No one knows how she managed it. Prima was very gracious and polite, never once showing any indication of how she must be feeling. It was the strength many admired of her. James Potter still had obligations, he had accepted his place as heir to two houses and his marriage didn't prevent his having to follow through. It was nearing his twenty first birthday when he and his new wife finally manged to produce an heir. The day was known to everyone, because Prima was there the day Harry was born.

She wasn't pregnant in any of the pictures, but Lily Potter very much was. He set the clippings aside. Even Harry knew what happened next. His parent's went into hiding, Voldemort found them and murdered them. Harry was sent to the Dursely's.

One month later Prima Grimm disappeared altogether.


	22. By Moonlight

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>It's getting harder to stay awake and my strength is fading fast, when my faith is getting weak and I feel like giving in<em>

_I'm at war with the world cause I ain't never gonna sell my soul, I've already made up my mind, no matter what I can't be bought or sold_

_In the dark I can feel you in my sleep, in your arms I feel you breath into me_

_Forever hold this heart that I will give to you, forever I will live for you_

_At last-__I'm awake and I'm alive_

_At last_

* * *

><p>He knew he ought to be jumping up and down with excitement now he knew he had family members that weren't magic-hating muggles. For some reason Potter-hating vampiric lords just didn't seem like that much of a step up. They might not even reply. Or they might follow him into an alley and destroy the last living reminder of their family's humiliation. They could assume he lied and they could even already know and be uninterested. Harry still had a murderous godfather to deal with, an event to plan and a Dark lord to inform. He certainly didn't have time to let his fears run away with him.<p>

Instead of worrying about things he couldn't control he needed to take action right now in the ways he could and then see what came of it. There wasn't any other method he could think of that didn't involve a nervous breakdown. Draco turned to the left when they reached the final stair of Gringotts, toward the Ministry access point in the alley. Harry went to their room at the Leaky Cauldron and sat at the desk. There was really one way to do this and beating around the bush wasn't going to get it done any sooner.

_Sirius Black_

_House Black_

_This is a private invitation to my magical acknowledgment in one week's time. Presenting the seal on this letter at the door will allow your entrance and temporary sanctuary for the duration of the event._

_Your godson,_

_Heir Potter_

Harry set the parchment aside to dry and flipped open his diary. If he didn't keep Tom aware of the situation he would have to add offended teenage Dark Lord to his list of things to worry about. Frankly he didn't have time for that.

_Tom?_

**Harry?**

_Quick question. How does one fashion a letter to one's vampiric great uncles requesting an audience?_

**Where on Earth did you acquire vampiric great uncles?**

_It's a long story_

**I have an equally long answer**

Harry gathered his nerves and set them aside in his mind for now, adapting utter calm and set to explaining the way of things to Tom. He intended to do something about all of this tonight.

The fact was Harry had exactly one week until his magical acknowledgment and his official acceptance of his heirship. In order to do that he had to have his Terms of Inheritance so he could publicly accept his responsibilities.

While he could technically accept his position without knowing his heirship requirements it would be a dumb thing to do. This is his one and only shot to alter anything in it and once he accepted he was bound to it, much like his father had still been bound to his own requirements even though he broke a bonding agreement he initiated. Regardless of circumstance magic would enforce Due Punishment if you did not complete the requirements of your Terms of Inheritance. Which left him with very little in the choice department.

He could go on and do it anyway. He could forfeit his inheritance. Or he could get his Terms of Inheritance somehow. As far as Lucius was concerned, as Harry's official sponsor for his introduction to society, choosing to go along without knowing his terms would not illicit favour from the pureblood world. As far as Harry was concerned the second wasn't an option either.

He point blank refused to give up any part of his legacy.

Tom was delighted at the turn of events. Harry wanted to stab him with his quill. He couldn't blame him though, things like this fell directly into the _entertaining drama _category...when they were happening to someone else. In the end he took his friend's enjoyment of his problems in stride. At least the other boy provided useful information between snarky comments. That was something.

_To the Lords Grimm_

_Purveyors of truth and magicks_

_House Grimm_

_If you've opened this letter after seeing its seal I can only hope you intend to read it as well. I have reason to believe your niece, Prima Grimm, is my mother. That was blunt but I couldn't think of a politer way to say it. _

_This may come as a surprise, you can be assured I was quite taken off guard myself. _

_Prima no longer dances in the public's eye. I've been informed all attempts to communicate with her in the last decade have not been successful, but the two of you are still active if in the shadows. I am sending this to you with the hope you will arrange to meet me so I might prove my intent is not malicious. I only wish to provide you with evidence that what I say is true to the extent of my knowledge and I hope you might be persuaded to aid me in the pursuit of an audience with Prima Grimm herself._

_Your curious great nephew_

_Heir Potter_

There wasn't anything else to do. He turned his mind from it, smiled when the twins asked to come in and set about playing a card game. He hadn't relaxed yet today and he should. Things would only get more serious.

Draco joined in when he returned, with his father's permission to continue staying with Harry. Ron stirred up a fuss, Percy doused the twins with water when they attempted to read his book over his shoulder, and in the midst of all the chaos Harry allowed himself to smile.

Harry shifted under the covers of the bed that night. He sat up, sheets pooling around his waist and stared blearily over to the window. It was open. With a long-suffering sigh he pushed himself to his feet and ignored the chill gifted to him by the merciless wooden floor. Next time he was going to shove Draco off the other end of the bed and make him close the window. He grasped the the frame and made to close it. A soft sound had him freezing in the middle of the motion. He turned his head.

"We have come."

Harry twirled around. Two figures moved forward from the shadows of the room into the pale light of the moon coming through the half closed window. Both of them faded and washed out looking, fair hair and skin and pale yellow eyes a stark contrast to the dark of night. A faint smile flashed pointed teeth.

He tried very hard to ignore the way they made his skin crawl. Harry bowed at the waist in deference to their age, status and position as his relatives.

"Uncles, I'm pleased you accepted the invitation."

They let out a whisper of amusement. "How else would we get in?" Voices soft and slow, only the barest hint of a German accent.

It didn't appear to be a legitimate question so Harry did not respond. They crossed their arms in unison and tilted their heads in opposite directions.

"We wondered if you would send for us one day."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is it true?" His voice rasped.

They dropped to their knees, bringing themselves to his eye-level, movements gentle and purposely non-threatening. No expressions betrayed their feelings but he could practically taste their unease.

"It is as you say. We are family." Two sets of hands carefully reached out to him in. "If you will have us."

Harry stared. They thought _he_ might reject _them? _

Of course. They were vampires, dark creatures, and he the-boy-who-lived, son of James Potter the man who rejected their niece. A Gryffindor, with predominately light friends shown in public up to this point. They had every reason to believe he wouldn't want to ruin his reputation by associating with them. Perhaps they'd even been told so and convinced of it. In fact, he thought, glancing between them, that may explain why they waited for him to come to them rather then sending him a letter themselves. An appropriately meddlesome entity immediately came to mind.

To hell with that. He took three quick steps forward and gathered them both in an embrace, politely ignoring their startled gasps.

Harry couldn't care less what the world thought.


	23. I didn't ask for an audience

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>This is the last night you'll spend alone, look me in the eyes so I know you know<em>

_I'm everywhere you want me to be_

_The last night you'll spend alone, I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go_

_I'm everything you need me to be_

_They don't know you like I know you, t__hey don't know you at all_

_The night is so long when everything's wrong, If you give me your hand I will help you hold on_

_Tonight_

* * *

><p>"Wild." Said his uncles. They sat on the floor, straight backed and proper in their gray velvet suits with gray vests and gray bow ties. Dark cloaks long since removed and wrapped around Harry when he began to shiver in their grasp. "Her laugh, the look in her eyes and even the way she moved. Absolutely feral and rebellious, every cell in her body. We adored her."<p>

Harry's cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling. He couldn't find it in him to care.

"And when she danced in the pureblood circles, _that_ was magic. The looks on their faces when she entered the room, like a tiger without a leash walked amongst them. We miss that the most we think. Watching her play her games with them. Prima bored very easily and so was always making up new games or adding more elaborate rules. Without telling anyone of course. Mortal beings fascinated her."

"I heard the thing most admired about her was her strength to get through unfortunate situations gracefully."

Like James Potter rejecting her and then marrying a muggleborn. He shoved that train of thought into a corner viciously.

They nodded, yellow eyes tender. "Prima was very proud, it would be unacceptable to her for anyone to glimpse her weaknesses."

Harry worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You have a question for us child?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Why didn't she come with you?"

"You must understand, she tried to see you many times when you were very little-"

He held in a snarl. He was so sick of having to understand this or understand that. Why couldn't anyone tell him the truth? It was his life he deserved to know about anything and everything that affected it and dammit he was tired of people keeping secrets and making excuses and expecting him to understand. He wanted answers. He wanted to know _why_ the wizards left him at the Dursleys, he wanted to know _why_ his father rejected a soul mate bond, he wanted to know _why_ Dumbledore let him bear the weight of the rumours last year _and he really wanted to know where the hell his mother was._

"That's not good enough. Why isn't she here now?" Harry's voice both hard and distant, and soft and vulnerable. He didn't know if he was accusing or begging.

His uncles smiled apologetically,, one hand each running through his hair on opposite sides. Voices soft and windy and achingly gentle. "We have not seen Prima in a very long time child. Soon after you were taken away she left us and we have not heard from her. We searched but where she is we can not go."

"I was taken away?"

They shifted. "The night the _wizards_," Identical scowls, "named you their savior she went in search of you. You too, child, went where we could not follow."

Harry frowned. "Why not?"

"We were not invited. The wards would not allow Prima, especially, near the house. The closer she came the more it would hurt until we had no choice but to pull her back."

"There are _wards_ around my house?"

They nodded. "Blood wards. Strong ones. She could not break them though she tried. We had to flee from wizards twice."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "There aren't any other wizards on Privet Drive."

Or there better not have been. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing him running around in Dudley's clothes or Merlin forbid one of his classmates knowing he worked the gardens in Summer. It was too embarrassing to even contemplate. No one ever needed to know. Unless it was to bring Dumbledore down, he amended. He could do it for that reason if it came down to it and blackmail wasn't an available alternative. He'd much rather keep it between those who needed to know and no one else.

"You are watched Harrison. The blood wards keep those like us out and alert your watchers if we try to breech them."

His stomach churned alarmingly. So people did know then. More than just the headmaster. There were people who knew what happened at the Dursley house. And they were just like Dumbledore weren't they? Watching and never doing anything. Keeping his uncles away from him. Harry wondered if his distress was obvious. Because in the next moment he was pulled into a shared hug between them, the cold of their bodies seeping through their cloaks. He didn't mind it. "We can be with you now Harrison. We are your family."

"I am your family too Harry."

Harry turned to see Draco sitting up. He wondered how long the other boy had been lying awake and listening. How Slytherin. "I know we've only gotten to really know one another recently, but I _am _your cousin and I had hoped you were beginning to see me as your friend."

Harry's breath caught on the lump in his throat. He was grateful to them, all of them for their affection but it was overwhelming. He buried his face in one of his uncles shoulders. Draco let out a snort, soft padding across the floor indicating he had joined them. His uncles gave a low warning growl he was pretty sure Draco couldn't hear. Harry froze. Over-protective thirteen year old cousin with a bossy mouth. Over-protective blood sucking uncles.

"Please don't eat my cousin." He murmured, cautiously. Harry looked up and gave them his best wide-eyed puppy look. "He's a prissy git sometimes but I'd miss him."

Draco emitted a sound of outrage.

Harry felt more than heard whispery laughter. "We shall do our best to refrain."


	24. Like the Wind and the Rain

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Ain't it funny, rumors fly and I know you heard about me<em>

_So hey let's be friends, I'm dying to see how this one ends_

_So it's gonna be forever or it's gonna go down in flames_

_You can tell me when it's over If the high was worth the pain_

_'Cause we're young and we're reckless we'll take this way too far_

_It'll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar_

* * *

><p>Today was the third day The Uncles had come to visit and it was very hard to know how to act around them when they were waxing poetic about the dust caught in the sunlight leaking through a crack in the wall. Or holding Harry between them like they feared he'd just crumble into nothing if they weren't touching him. It was like having two giant, blood-sucking kittens who did everything in tandem.<p>

Tonight they brought with them a pensive.

_Together he and Harry stood at the back of a memory ballroom. Harry's attention on a boy to their left with messy hair. James Potter. The teenage future father of his newest friend was himself staring directly across the hall. Draco could see a boy, about fourteen maybe, with very light skin and dark hair being made to show off the steps to The Summer Dance by his mother. All the purebloods took every chance to display the talents of their eldest sons and daughters at this time of year. Draco himself often felt like a well trained dog. His mother said '__**recite the five most important wizarding edicts in French**__' and his mouth started moving before his mind caught up with the request._

_This dark haired boy was obviously annoyed by his mother but he gave it a try. James Potter snickered loudly and the boy missed a step. He started to stop when a new set of legs appeared next to his imitating the next step. With a surprised smile the boy continued with his new partner, turning to see who it was. A girl his age with tan skin and two thick braid hanging down to her knees. Nothing interesting until you took in the fact her hair was the colour of snow and her eyes were a glinting pale yellow. Prima Grimm. _

_To his credit the boy didn't miss anymore steps. They danced around together, skipping and stomping and clapping and thoroughly enjoying themselves. The entire hall stopped to watch. _

_The Summer Dance was a pureblood favorite because it used the sounds of one's magic to produce the music of the dance and so it was judged by the sound your magic produced and how well it mixed with your partners. That wasn't a problem here. Both of these teenagers were powerful. Prima's magic sounded like the wind and the rain, his like the booming and rolling of thunder. Like a Summer storm. _

_The crowd was pleased, applause immediate at the end of the dance._

_James took this moment to walked up Prima, bow and ask for a dance. To his surprise and everyone else's amusement, she turned and walked away. The rest of the memory James Potter followed her around the room trying to get her attention. He told clever jokes, flirted with other girls, boasted of his Transfiguration skills and flashed his heir ring. Each time yellow eyes would glance at him, a small smile gracing Prima's lip and then she'd determinedly turn away. _

_It was hilarious. _

_James was then found hiding underneath the refreshment table, an empty potions vial in his hand. It may have been a fun prank if the next person to come get punch wasn't Draco's own father Lucius Malfoy. Harry let our a startled laugh when Lucius' blonde hair turned purple. With a sixth sense for knowing who caused him trouble Lucius ducked under the table and cursed at James._

_"Potter!"_

_A tanned hand grabbed James and Prima was leading him away, darting in and out of the crowd an irate Lucius following after. They hit the staircase and could get no further in the crowd. Undaunted, Prima put a boot up on the railing, stood on the railing and jumped to the next balcony. With a flip she was on the other side and leaning over to smile at a dumbfounded James. _

_"Scared?" She taunted, her voice low and warm._

_James took one look over his shoulder at the nearing Malfoy, gulped and climbed up beside her. _

The memory faded away.

"That was your mum meeting your father for the first time, wasn't it Harry?"

"Yes, I think it was." He said, voice very small.

Draco took a breath and faced The Uncles. They stood there, waiting, arms crossed.

"Where is Prima Grimm?"

Everyone stilled. Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. It had to be asked and he was sick of everyone avoiding the question. She was the only one who could open the Will for Harry so he could proceed with his magical acknowledgment. There had to be a way to get to her and explain what was going on. From what he understood Harry's uncles hadn't been able to get to Harry because he was within strong wards. Harry's mother had to be behind some strong wards as well. If they at least _knew _where she was then he and Harry could see if the wards prevented them entering. There wasn't any reason at all for them to stop _Draco_, so if nothing else _he _could go inside. Waltzing in on a powerful witch and reminding her of the son she had with the man who betrayed her wasn't high on his list of fun things to do but someone would have to.

If not Harry then it would be him.

An hour later found them standing in front of a very large red bricked compound with high walls and muggle recording cameras. Draco held Harry's hand and walked determinedly forward. So far neither of them felt the push of the wards. It wasn't until they were nearly to the door that Draco saw a sign. His insides clenched.

_Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum._


	25. Stolen Child

**Summary**: When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>This is where i draw the line<em>

_This is the where the old me dies_

_Light a match, let it burn, kiss it goodbye,_

_Giving up what i was_

_This is where i draw the line_

* * *

><p>Harry was glad to have a Slytherin along with him. It hadn't even occurred to him what to say to explain his presence here or how he knew of Prima's presence here or anything else. He'd been about to say his name when Draco clamped down on his arm and spoke for the both of them. Now they were kids doing a report on all the things this fine institution did and they'd chosen a name from a list a random to do their report on specifically. Prima Grimm.<p>

It was all he could do to keep himself from shaking. Harry knew his nails must be digging into the palm of Draco's hand by now. The other boy made no mention of it. At a desk in front of them a woman with fake blonde hair tapped on a keyboard.

"There, all done. Come along. This one is one of my favourites you see. I visit her at least once a day." She said, smiling.

A clipboard under her left arm she walked down the hall to the left to the end and then took a right. They were lead through a narrow hall with several small metal doors on either side. He could hear growls and groans and bangs from behind them.

"The more lively ones." Beside him Draco shivered.

They followed the nurse who dressed more like the warden of a prison than a health professional, down toward a large glass-encased room. Inside was a toilet and a cot. Sitting on the cot in a thin, mint green robe, arms wrapped around her knees and head tilted toward the roof was Prima Grimm. He knew it. He could see her snow coloured hair from here. Her eyes faced upward but he knew they'd be pale yellow, just like his uncles' eyes. The tan of her skin was bold contrast to the oppressive white of the room.

"Here we are." The nurse rapped on the glass smartly. "Morning sweetheart!"

Draco leaned around Harry. "Why is she in a glass room?"

"Because she's a fox this one. Escaped thirty eight times the first six months she was here. Even staged a riot with some of other patients. That was back when we were still trying to get her rehabilitated." She shook her head. "But that isn't going to happen for this one."

Harry took a step forward and paused. A red gate slid up through the floor, about waist high. A sign on it read **Do Not Engage The Patient Alone**. He blinked and looked at the nurse.

"You have to be very careful boys. She's out of it now but sometimes it wears off sooner than we think and she hides it from us. Looks a bit like a doll doesn't she? But she isn't harmless, you couldn't trust a thing she said. That's not as much of a problem anymore of course."

Harry stared through the glass. Prima's face was blank, her eyes empty, hair unbound and coiled around her like a blanket. He tried to ignore the faint sound of howling winds and melancholy rain. The music of her magic.

"Is she more trustworthy now then?"

The nurse made a face, shook her head and tapped her own throat. "Poor thing. Back when that sort of thing was allowed, we would never have done it now. Suppose it's for the best though. They had these strange specialists come in with odd uniforms and they did an operation. Altered her vocal cords."

Harry felt like someone punched him in the gut. "So, she can't," he cleared his throat, "She can't speak then?"

"No. She can sing though. I'm so glad they left it so, though I can't imagine the mechanics of such an operation. She's got a lovely voice. I call her the little bird." She rapped on the glass again. "Prima sweetie, won't you sing for us? You've got new visitors and they'd love to hear you sing."

Yellow eyes snapped to them.

"That's right sweetie, give us a song." Crooned the nurse.

Draco looked ill.

Harry swallowed again and pressed his hand against the glass, leaning over the fence.

"Sing for me?" He asked.

Yellow eyes stared at him for a moment.

_"Where dips the rocky highland of Slueth Wood in the lake, there lies a leafy island where flapping herons wake_

_The drowsy water rats; there we've hid our faery vats full of berries and reddest of stolen cherries_

_Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild _

_With a faery hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than ye can understand_

_Where the wave of moonlight glosses the dim gray sands with light_

_Far off by furthest rosses we foot it all the night_

_Weaving olden dances, mingling hands and mingling glances_

_Till the moon has taken flight, to and fro we leap_

_Ans chase the frothy bubbles while the world is full of troubles_

_And is anxious in its sleep_

_Away with us he's going, the solemn-eyed_

_For he comes the human child, to the waters and the wild_

_with a feary hand in hand, from a world more full of weeping than he can understand.*"_

The nurse clapped cheerfully. Harry quickly wiped a tear from his face.

"Isn't that lovely? I've never heard anything like it. I feel as though it's moving in me..." The nurse trailed off.

"Well, I'm just glad she's getting some new visitors. She doesn't like _him. _I think he's the one who commissioned for her operation. Can't blame him there, she was creative in her words with him. Back then. I sort of miss it."

Draco once again took the lead, perhaps knowing Harry couldn't have spoken just then.

"Who is her other visitor?"

The nurse leaned close to them conspiratorially,"We aren't allowed to ask his sort for their names but I know it because he's the one that brought her in. In the paperwork it said she was a danger to herself and to others. Strange things happened around her. Still do sometimes. And she used to claim to see the oddest things and we could never get her to admit those things didn't exist. Honestly_, potions and magic and werewolves?_ Her mind was a frightening place. And she could be just as frightening, when she had a mind to be. This old nurse who retired shortly after I came on, well I wasn't there the day this happened but she swore the girl somehow got her hand through the glass and was holding the poor man by his throat. The very next day they brought those bracelets for her. See them? Just there."

Harry could see them, thin bands around her lower arm.

"I was there the day they put them on her. I suppose I wasn't prepared."

He really didn't want to know anymore, but he heard himself asking. "What do you mean?"

"There is something entirely unnatural about her. Hasn't aged a day since she was brought here and that day..." the nurse shuddered. "I've never seen anyone move so quickly. And the growling and screaming, like a wild animal. Had to bring out the hose and spray her down until she calmed. They put the bracelets on her and got out as fast as they could. She raged for days. Flitting back and forth in there, so quick you almost couldn't see it. Kicking and pounding against the glass and begging to be let out. Acted like the child she was supposed to be. Escaped one more time. Then came the operation and the medicine she's on now. Tranquilized all the time, poor thing. Can't be helped though. We were afraid she'd starting hurting herself."

He felt Draco lean closer to him. "Those are magic suppressors Harry. They bound her magic."

He nodded, just enough for Draco to see. He turned to the nurse with a big smile and wide eyes. "Could we see the paperwork? Just a glance? I'd really like to know more, it's fascinating."

The nurse smiled and patted his head. "Of course. It'll just be our secret eh?" She winked and walked around the corner. Two minutes later she came back with a folder.

"Here darling."

"Ma'am?" Harry turned to look at Draco. "What was her crime? The reason she was first admitted?"

Harry turned back to the nurse. She frowned. "She broke in to a house. The family was in hysterics. Attacked the father and tried to kill one of the babies. Had him in her arms when they got there. Lucky they brought her here. It would have been the prisons otherwise and they aren't equipped to handle poor dears like this one. It isn't her fault she's mad."

Harry winced.

"I'll be back in five minutes." Her heals clicked away.

He felt himself harden inside. A shaky hand grabbed the folder and flipped it open. He searched until he found her admittance paperwork. Dated 26 November 1981. Almost a month after Voldemort killed James and Lily Potter. The house she broke into was Number 4 Privet Drive.

Grimly, he turned the paper over. A light bulb nearby burst. Then another.

Draco wrapped an arm around him and squeezed. "Harry? What is it?"

Wordlessly he handed the paper to Draco, pointing at the name at the bottom.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>*Stolen Child: Loreena McKennit.<p> 


	26. A Vow of Vengeance

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold<em>

_But you will remember me, remember me for centuries_

_And just one mistake is all it will take_

_And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name_

_Until you die for me, as long as there is a light, my shadow's over you_

_Remember me_

* * *

><p><em>Oh Merlin.<em>

Draco allowed Harry to secure himself around his arm, face buried into his shoulder. It was certainly a lot to take in. He took the lead after that. Calmly giving back the paperwork when the nurse returned and questioning the circumstances which would allow Prima to be freed. Then he thanked her for her time and left the compound. The Grimms stood at the end of the street, anxiously. He didn't know if Harry would want to be the one to tell them or not, so he only confirmed Prima's presence inside.

He nodded to them, brought his portkey from his pocket and took himself and Harry home. Luckily his father was in the receiving room when they popped into it. He didn't think he was up to a search about the grounds. Or much movement at all really.

Draco hadn't been able to properly explain the situation to his father at first, such was his anger. Such was his broiling sickness in his soul. His fear. He'd always known muggles were beasts. Every pureblood child grew up learning about the witch trials that swept the world. Some of them burned, some of them hung or beheaded or tied with stones and thrown into the river. Muggles couldn't handle anything that wasn't like them and today he had seen their vile ways up close. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget the screaming that came from the metal doors or the scar on Prima Grimms neck. The vacant look in her eyes, like there wasn't anyone behind them.

_Oh Merlin._

Draco spun on his heel, entered the nearest bathroom and retched.

When he finally got a hold of himself he explained to his father everything he learned the last few days and everything he saw today. All of it, every horrible detail. Now he could only wait and hope his father could do something about it. There was no way Albus Dumbledore had the authority to put an adult magical being in a damned muggle facility without their permission. It was inconceivable. If he did it to her, then who was to say he hadn't done it to someone else? Or that he wouldn't do it again? What else was this man capable of?

He could imagine, in his mind, Prima fighting them with all of her might when they came to bind her magic. Had to spray her with a hose. That's what the nurse said. They had to half drown her before they could even get close enough. Then they ran and left her behind glass the cowards.

That this happened to a well known, wealthy pureblood was perhaps the most frightening bit for Draco. It meant no one was safe. No one had even known! And they still would not, if Harry hadn't sent after his uncles. Prima would have been behind the glass forever. Draco dug his nails into the palm of his hands, much as Harry had earlier, and tried to fight down the urge to vomit once more. He took a breath, sat and rocked forward.

_Oh Merlin._

His training didn't cover this. These sort of things didn't _happen_ anymore. That's what everyone said. How could something like a muggle ever hurt someone like a wizard? But they can and they did and they do. And they didn't see anything wrong with it. Some of the people in there were muggles too. They did it to their own kind. Locked them up and told them they were mad and kept them dizzy on potions.

Were all muggles like this?

He knew Harry's life with the muggles wasn't good. What might they have done to him that his little cousin wasn't telling him? Why was he so terrified of going home? What was it he had said? A cupboard under the stairs? A boy named Freak?

_Oh merlin._

Draco shivered. "They bound her magic so she couldn't defend herself and then they stole her voice. Her voice father. I saw it, the scar, they cut her open with a knife and they stole her voice. With _a knife _father..." He didn't resist when his father pulled him into his arms. Draco didn't like appearing weak but his training didn't _cover_ things like this. These things weren't supposed to happen anymore. That's why they had the Statute of Secrecy. This is why they stayed out of the muggle world. This shouldn't be possible. They were wizards. Gods. Masters of the universe.

"They took her magic away and then they cut her open...with a knife...with a knife..."

Arms squeezed him close. "I will never let that happen to you Dragon. You have nothing to fear here."

_Why was it so hard to breathe?_

"I am going to take care of everything."

"Yes father." The reply was automatic. He didn't think he'd ever feel safe again.

Draco looked over to Harry. The younger boy still hadn't moved. Draco swallowed. What did one say? What could one possibly do to make this better? He didn't know how to comfort his friend. Hell he could hardly stand it himself. He couldn't imagine what he'd do if it was his father behind that glass. He quickly dug his nails into his palms once more, holding back another wave of nausea. What could Prima have done for Dumbledore to believe she deserved such a punishment? Love the wrong man?

No. Realization dawned on him, painfully. He shut his eyes quickly.

_Just breathe. _

He did it not because _Prima_ did something wrong. Not necessarily. Dumbledore did it because he wanted Harry with the muggles. _That_ was why he had the records of that sealed. _That_ was why he kept knowledge of Harry's inheritance from him. He didn't want Harry to know anything about himself. He wanted him ignorant. Harry's Godfather was in Azkaban, until recently anyway. Harry didn't attend any of the functions he was expected to participate in. He hadn't known anyone from the wizarding world before Hogwarts. His only contacts outside the children in Gryffindor was that Hagrid fellow and Dumbledore himself. What was that blasted man doing? No matter. He couldn't have Harry. His friend. His companion. Under his protection. And it seemed it was about damn time that _somebody_ protected him.

Draco stood, walked to the chair Harry curled up in and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to keep you safe."

Dumbledore would regret this day. Draco would make sure of it.


	27. Cruel Intentions

**Summary: **When Harry went down into the Chamber, instead of trying to save Ginny he got distracted. Amazing what one little difference can do.

**Characters: **Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. The Malfoys. Dumbledore. Sirius Black.

**Warnings: **Snark-Fu. Complicated pureblood customs and politics. Plots for world domination. Manipulation. Secrets.

**Questions? Comments? Limericks? **Put in your review. I'll answer if I can.

* * *

><p><em>If I seem dangerous, would you be scared<em>

_I get the feeling just because, everything I touch isn't dark enough..._

_A monster! A monster!_

* * *

><p>Lucius watched his son and the Potter child for moment. Or Grimm child? He could worry about the semantics later. He turned, scooped a small amount of floo powder into his hand, stepped into the fire place and quietly stated his destination. A moment later he stepped out of one of the many fireplaces in the Ministry Arrival Hall. The blonde Lord stepped briskly to the lift ignoring the ministry officials seeking his attention. He was not here to socialize.<p>

He knew what the wizarding world thought of him. Ruthless, vain, selfish, cold. He was all of those things, the reputation didn't offend him. But, what they often forgot, Lucius was a devoted father. Draco was his soul source of joy in the world, other than politics. He had nothing else. His father died the winter prior and his mother had gone before him many years ago. He knew he spoiled his son and dared anyone to make something of it. What his son wanted he got for him.

After hearing his son's words Lucius knew exactly what it was he wanted now. To protect Harry Potter. For whatever reason their friendship went beyond politics and into the realm of true affection. Such alliances were rare in this world. To have someone with true loyalty at your back was not something to be overlooked.

What was more, Potter was a politician's dream. His father had been a pureblood and heir to two good, strong wizarding houses. His mother the leader of the Grimm Dynasty. Rulers of the wizarding underworld, rebels fighting for the right to knowledge. For the right to practice and research any type of magic without fear of prosecution. Sworn to the truth they were known as True Observers. Members of the Grimm family were often used in court to settle disputes. After all, everyone knew a Grimm would tell you exactly what he or she saw without bias against your affiliations or house or magical practices. Fair.

And his son was making an alliance with the Heir to the Grimm Dynasty. The Heir to House Potter and House Black. The single most powerful child in the wizarding world. No he would not waste this opportunity. If nothing else he wanted compensation for his son's fear. No wizarding child should be subjected to the cruelty of muggles. Not even by observation.

For that matter, no pureblood should have to worry about being sent away to be _tortured by muggles._

He took in a breath that was certainly not to calm his nerves. His hands did not shake. Lucius did not think back to a little girl in braids who once followed him about the manor. A girl who healed his mother after a raid on the manor. And if he felt indebted to her...no one would ever know. It would ruin his reputation.

The lift stopped. Lucius exited and began the walk down the hallway. His destination directly in his sight.

"Lord Malfoy! I wasn't aware the Minister was expecting you." A flustered secretary stood hastily and bowed.

"He is not. But he _will_ see me." He turned his eyes on her. She shuddered and half-ran to knock on the Minister's door. He watched her slip in and out.

"He will see you now."

Lucius didn't feel the need to reply. He strode in shutting the door firmly behind him, casting a silencing spell for good measure.

"Ah, Lucius. To what do I owe this visit?" Fudge motioned to the chair in front of his desk, greasy smile plastered to his face.

Lucius ignored the offered seat.

"Tell me, Minister, what would you say if I told you a pureblood woman was imprisoned in a muggle health facility without her or her family's permission. A facility where she was harmed. Where she could not defend herself because her magic was bound."

The Minister stared. "A _muggle _facility? Who would dare?"

"Albus. Dumbledore."

Fudge paled. "Now see here Lucius, one can not go around accusing Dumbledore of all people. Especially of something like this. Where did you say you got this information?"

"I didn't."

The minister gave a placating smile. "Lucius, Dumbledore, he has a reason for what he does. I do not always agree with his choices but even you must admit the man tends to follow the rules. I can't see him blatantly ignoring them." The man gave a rueful laugh. He would have torn Dumbledore's titles from him years ago if he'd been able to. Fudge feared Dumbledore's political power.

Lucius tilted his head. "Who would have caught him? It was all done in the muggle world. No one there to see his...transgressions."

"Lucius you must _stop_." Fudge glanced around nervously as if expecting the old man to pop out of a corner and demand to know why his good name was being slandered.

Lucius resisted the urge to curse the Minister. They frowned on that sort of thing.

"Perhaps you would allow me to send an invitation to two individuals I know have an invested interest in this situation? Best we all talk about this at once, together don't you think?"

Fudge nodded warily. He might fear Dumbledore's political aspirations but Lucius was the one in his office. "I suppose Lucius. If you think it's a good idea-"

Lucius took the minister's quill from his hand and write a note on the back of a slip of parchment. He attached it to the Minister's owl and set it out the window.

"I guarantee you will want to hear this out."

The blonde Lord stepped back and waited patiently. Draco confirmed the rumours. He expected his invitation to be accepted immediately. It was. Fudge glanced up, startled, when the wards on this floor of the building shifted and shook once. His eyes widened.

Lucius didn't blame him for being concerned. He ought to be. The wards detected and reacted to the emotions and intentions of visitors. It allowed the staff on the floor to be better prepared to handle the disposition of the wizards or witches who came to see them.

Whoever it was was _not _pleased.

Fudge straightened his desk nervously. "Lucius. These friends of yours. They aren't the violent sort are they?"

The doors swung open, two identical sets of boots entered soundlessly. Lucius inclined his head in greeting, turned back to the Minister and smiled. He tried to keep the wickedness out of it. From the way Fudge knocked over his inkwell he might not have done the best job. Completely unintentional of course.

"Minister, might I introduce the Lords Grimm?"

The inkwell fell out of Fudge's hands, rolled along the desk then hit the floor. It shattered.

Lucius hid a smirk. "You may have heard of them."


End file.
